Accidental Ally
by misundersnape
Summary: Sarah is a Muggle unaware of the Magical world's existence... until, coincidentally at the right time and place, she is admitted into a mysterious estate. But is it a coincidence at all? What led her to this place in the cold, dark night... fate? AU
1. Chapter 1  Winged Devils

**_Okay... here I am, back again with yet another wip. Don't kill me Julie! But I do Need (with a capital N if you noticed) more feedback in order to determine just what details need clarification or closure. I have the idea in my head of where I want the fic to go, however I do have trouble getting there because I sometimes get tangled in sub-plot and peripheral characters. Basically, within your comments and queries, please indicate what and who you want to know more about. Your interest will guide me to decide what to describe or explain next._**

**_I love my readers... and I want you all to know that your reviews for all my fics not only motivate me, but help me devise every single chapter for your utmost reading pleasure. Without you I may not have gotten past chapters three or four..._**

**_So, please have your fingers at the ready to click the review button again... remember, you are a part of the process of writing my fics if you share your thoughts._**

**_Thanks again, do enjoy this newest drama... _**

**_:D_**

**Accidental Ally**

**Chapter 1** – _Winged Devils_

Sarah put the car in third gear, speeding up again after deciding the driveway to her immediate left could not be the correct one.

"Oh, I'm never going to find it!" she whispered harshly. "Why didn't you give me more information?" she added, her tone almost whiny.

She slipped the gearstick into fourth and grimaced.

"Because it was meant to be a one night stand, of course, _idiot_!" she admonished herself, and gave a small, disheartened sigh.

Sarah wasn't usually the 'one night stand' type… in fact she'd never done that before. But she had been oddly compelled that night, almost not in her right mind she decided a week or two later. It had been strange.

The young man, obviously well dressed (if a little oddly), had charmed her with polite, intelligent conversation and before she knew it he was leading her into one of the upstairs, overnight rooms and she had not hesitated a moment, despite not really being comfortable with his intentions in the recesses of her mind.

Moments after he had come to his completion, he had hissed as if in pain and clutched at his forearm. Sarah wondered if he had gotten a cramp in his arm.

'He'd been quite strained near the end,' she thought back with a detached sense of mockery.

Then they had been suddenly interrupted by furious and urgent calls and a pounding fist on the door. He had leapt from on top of her, refastened his pants, scrambled for his very few discarded clothes (really it had only been his strange cloak-like garment) and with barely a backwards glance at her, he'd left.

She'd been too dazed, and her mind too hazy to react appropriately outraged at the time, so she'd merely rolled over in the bed and fallen asleep. She'd not felt like 'herself' for days afterwards, she remembered; feeling confused and at odds with the world and her normal self. A number of her friends had commented and she had brushed their concern away with an excuse about being tired…

'_Yes_, perhaps that had merely been it all along…'

But _now_, well, she had a _reason_ to try to find him, despite his not so gentlemanly conduct.

She took her foot off the accelerator as another driveway came into view. Her eyes strained through the lack of light and saw that this driveway did not have a large wrought iron gate flanked by concrete pillars, topped with winged devils on either side. For _that_ was what she was searching for.

He'd mentioned the gates that night… was bragging about them, trying ridiculously hard to impress; though at the time she'd found it endearing. Goodness knows why?

Anyway, he'd also mentioned the name of his village… a lovely quaint little place in the south. There weren't so many roads to search that held large estates of the kind she sought… but still, she'd been at it for half the day, ever since she had arrived.

She accelerated again, feeling disheartened and tired.

"Bugger it!" she said with a huffed sigh. "I'll just do the rest of this road… then I'm going to find a place to stay the night."

Several miles down the road the car lurched and spluttered. Unsure of what the problem was Sarah glanced down at her dashboard gauges. The fuel gauge read "E".

"Oh, _bugger damn_!" she swore aloud. She'd not been paying attention to her fuel levels and now the car was almost empty.

"Shit!" she yelled out again, hitting the steering wheel in frustration. She was miles from the village now; it would take her all night to walk back!

Thinking logically, she turned the car around and began to drive back the way she had come; then at least she'd have less distance to walk when it finally did give up the ghost.

After another cough and splutter from the car Sarah noticed she passed the last driveway she had seen. She eased up on the accelerator a smidgeon to try to make her fuel last as long as possible.

Another few minutes went by before the car lurched again after Sarah was feeling as though she might just make it much closer to the village than she first imagined, but after a further series of coughs, splutters and jerks she had only travelled a further mile or two when it finally died for good and she disappointedly steered it safely off the edge of the road.

"God… where the hell _am_ I?" she asked rhetorically, squinting out the windscreen into the dark. Suddenly a heavy fog started to roll in. Bemused and a little astonished she watched the phenomenon escalate until she realised she could not see anything beyond the end of the bonnet of the car. The mist seemed to swirl and heave in an unnatural way, targeting Sarah's car with a strange deliberateness. An anxious uneasiness began to swell in her gut.

When the engine of her car had cut out so too had the heating and she began to feel the cold creep through the cabin; as if the fog's probing fingers were slinking malevolently into any crack it could find, even reaching out to worm itself into the fabric of her clothing.

"This is creepy," she whispered to herself with a shiver, feeling uncertain about whether she wanted to remain within the supposed security of the car, or whether to flee through the strange fog and try to find someone to help her.

Sarah tried turning the key once more for good measure, just in case; but the engine did not fire. She dearly wished she could just drive away from the bizarre scene… feeling almost as compelled as _that_ night, but what could she do? The car was out of petrol – and it was not like she could _magically_ fill up the fuel tank!

Sighing in defeat, she reached for the handle to open the car door, dragging her coat off the passenger seat with her as she pushed open the door and levered herself out and to her feet. There really was no point in sitting there waiting; it was cold and the car would be just as empty of fuel when morning came anyway, so she decided to seek assistance as soon as possible.

'At least if I'm walking I might be able to stay warmer than just sitting and twiddling my thumbs,' she thought with a sigh.

After she pulled on the heavy coat she flicked the door shut and took a few paces until she was standing in front of the car and glanced around her. Oddly, the mist was not so thick any more, and she was able to see as far as her car lights would extend.

Ahead of her she noticed a driveway that she definitely had not been apparent before. She trotted the thirty or so feet to the entrance and spied with surprise the tall iron gates guarding her passage.

The strange mist abruptly and rapidly rolled in around her again causing her to shiver. Odd, muffled, distant noises echoed off in the darkness… the whole scene was eerie. She took a step back, getting a distinct feeling that she shouldn't be here, and had just decided to go and get back in the car when the gates groaned and squeaked and suddenly began to open inwardly in a peculiarly welcoming fashion… giving the impression that they were inviting her in. Her perceptions could not distinguish whether she ought to be reacting with profound relief that she had likely found help so quickly _or_ an ominous sense of foreboding that her world was about to go pear-shaped.

She looked back at the useless car pulled up on the shoulder of the lane and gathered her courage. She did not want to spend the night in the tiny, cold vehicle… and nor did she relish the thought of walking hours on end back to the village. No… she would go up to this house and ask for help despite her lingering instincts that she ought to flee. She turned back to the gates and took a step – the mist billowed again.

And then the oddest sensation welled up in her halting her momentum again, and suddenly Sarah felt as though she needed to go home and check to see if she'd left the stove on. She turned toward the car, but as soon as she took a step toward the disabled vehicle she remembered she couldn't go anywhere anyway. And the _stove_… really? What was going on with her?

_Weird!_ She shook herself, turning back to the open gates and setting her determination to step into the foggy abyss.

"What's the worst that could happen, anyway?" she muttered encouragingly to herself; though perhaps the sentiment was a little naive.

'Maybe…' Sarah thought, shrugging optimistically as she leaned into forward motion, '… this _is _'his' house after all, despite the lack of 'winged devils'.'

Sarah took several steps forward, hoping the fog would lift as it had before, but unfortunately that was not to be the case. Currently she could barely see more than four or five feet in front of her. Another few steps took her over the property threshold and with a deep fortifying breath she coaxed herself to continue on until… _abruptly_ a dark form came hurtling out of the fog right in front of Sarah and smacked straight into her, knocking her flying backwards to the ground. Sarah yelped in shock as she plummeted; crashing nastily to the hard, rough stones, merely fortunate not to hit the back of her head upon the ground on impact.

The body that had knocked into her crashed down on top of her, sprawling across her midsection, hollering in surprise and grunting as it fell heavily onto her. Pale hands were spread wide on the gravelly driveway either side of her; preventing the person nosediving onto rough surface and they skidded brutally in the loose, sharp pebbles.

"Bloody Merlin!" the deep man's voice swore when they had finally come to a standstill and he began to scramble backwards off Sarah up to his knees, fumbling about all over the 'obstruction' that had dared knock him to the ground. As he determined that the offending object was actually a 'person', and notably a _female_ person at that, he hastily withdrew his hands with an astonished gasp.

"What the…? Who…who are you? What the hell are you doing here… what is your business?" he blurted out, fairly short of breath.

'_Bloody Merlin_? What?' Sarah thought momentarily bemused despite her recent nasty fall and fortunately too stunned by the sudden appearance of the man to react to the potentially mortifying grope he had just performed. The man suddenly thrust his hand into the depths of his coat; and alarmingly Sarah perceived he was delving for a weapon of some kind and she skidded herself a couple of feet backwards away from him immediately. The stones scraped viciously at her back, and her stomach and ribs twinged painfully at the effort.

"Ouch," she said automatically, but then her brain kicked into gear determining the urgent need for some kind of explanation.

"Wait… wait," she said urgently, putting up a surrendering hand in the hopes to dissuade this man from hurting her or whatever he intended to _do_ with the 'weapon'. "Um… I-I just got here… m-my car… it ran out of fuel…" she tried to explain, discovering that she was badly winded by his weight crashing on to her when she attempted to sit up. She wrapped an arm gingerly around her midsection with a gasp.

"Car?" he snapped with a frown, finally finding what he must have been rummaging in his robes for (apparently a _torch_) and shining the bright light in Sarah's face. She shielded her eyes immediately, but she could just barely make out the man looking her up and down in quite a disturbing, assessing manner.

The light was than extinguished quite abruptly after the man's hissed, "Nox."

'_Nox_?' Sarah wondered briefly, but she was distracted from the thought by the man fiddling oddly with his coat. The man must have returned the torch into his clothing's inner pockets for Sarah did not see it in his hand after that.

"You're merely here by chance… you're just a _Muggle_, aren't you…" he went on to mutter cryptically, seeming to verbalise the point merely for his own benefit rather than to question Sarah or anyone else, tensely running a hand across his own eyes.

"What?" Sarah asked, confused yet again by the man's strange vocabulary; still trying to catch her breath.

"Never mind, get up! I am currently being pursued… they will catch up with me imminently." He jumped nimbly to his feet. "Up, now!" he snapped, nervously looking back the way he had come, though there was no possibility of seeing very far through the mist.

'It would be nice if he offered to help me up…' Sarah thought, scornfully; still struggling to lever herself upright, '… seeing as _he_ was the one who knocked me down!'

Sarah eventually pushed herself up to a sitting position and twisted herself a little to try to gather her feet under her, but evidently she was not doing this as fast as the man wished, for he soon reached down and clasped one of his hands her under her armpit and yanked her quite sharply to her feet.

"Ahh…" she complained.

"Come on… _move_!"

"Okay, okay… ow," she snapped back, a little put out that he was now shoving her backwards toward the road quite roughly.

"Did you say your vehicle was out of fuel?" he questioned, his tone urgent and demanding.

"Um, yeah…" she stammered, only now processing that what he'd said a few moments ago, "… did… did you just say you were being _pursued_?" she stuttered, squinting into the mist behind him with anxious wariness. But he must have ignored her question for she did not receive an answer.

He'd pushed Sarah beyond the gates by this stage and her mouth dropped open when she could see by the light of her car that he had abruptly reached into his heavy, dark coat again. She assumed – or perhaps 'hoped' was a more accurate term – that he must be hunting for a weapon to hold off his supposed attackers, but this time withdrew, not a gun or a knife as she had imagined he concealed earlier, and not the torch again either, but… a foot-long _stick_?

He aimed it toward the inoperative vehicle forsaken off to his right; Sarah's eyebrows shot up in stunned bemusement.

After a complicated gesture of the man's outstretched arm holding the rod, the engine in Sarah's car unexpectedly roared to life.

She gasped; startled, confused and amazed all at once. "What the… what…? How-" she stammered, staring at her now perfectly functioning car.

"Go," he said to her, surprisingly gently considering his previous impatient snaps. He stepped up close to her and nudged her in the direction of the car. She snapped her eyes up to his and instantly gleaned a desperate urgency from them. The intensity in the dark orbs caused her to take a step backwards away from him in fear… or perhaps it was a sense of overwhelming… she couldn't have said, really.

Swallowing thickly Sarah got a good look at the man now standing in front of her, bathed in the beam of light from the car's headlights; he was tall, his pallor pale with dark, shoulder length hair framing his face. The man's attire was all black, or very dark in colour at least, and each article was cut in a style that appeared both gothic or medieval, yet oddly regal and aristocratic at the same time. Sarah had never seen anything like them before.

His facial features, she noticed, were not typically handsome and were currently shaped in quite an unpleasant manner by the crease of an anxious and impatient frown that was perceptibly growing darker with ire by the second. He abruptly took a slightly menacing step toward her and jolted her from her musings; she swiftly decided she had no more time to regard his appearance.

"Go… now, before they get here!" he bit out, his tone laced with both anger and frustration.

Feeling both intimidated and even a little fearful of him, and what's more the mysterious and potentially menacing '_they_' he referred to, she nodded obediently, took another step backwards, then spun on her heel and bolted for the car. As she reached the driver's side door, she wrenched it open clumsily yet halted on the threshold. Was he coming too or not?

She glanced up toward him, the unusual mist now only sparsely gathered between him and the car. He had turned away from her and was now facing the direction of the driveway. She could hear faint yelling through the fog and she could see the dark man had his head gently tilted; listening.

Abruptly he lifted the hand with the stick once more and with another flourish of his wrist the large iron gates began to squeak and grind their way closed again.

Sarah's mouth again dropped open in amazement… she'd forgotten, with the intensity of the situation and the adrenalin now rushing through her bloodstream, just what he had appeared to have done with the instrument only minutes before.

Over the whining and groaning of the gates she distinctly heard someone shout, "The gates! He's at the gates!"

"Shit," she whispered, alarmed.

The dark man appeared to have heard her and snapped his head around. With a sudden flurry of the stick again, her car's engine cut out. She stared at it; stricken.

"What… what are you doing!" she blurted accusingly, glaring at him.

"Your vehicle's engine is still running… it is merely rendered silent. Get in and go now!" he ordered sternly. Sarah's mind, while registering the information, found the concept so unbelievable that it refused to contemplate his claim – for the moment, at least.

"You aren't coming?" she queried instead.

"I have other transport… _go_!" he informed her in a tight, sharpened tone; only his jaw gritted in aggravation prevented him from roaring his directive at her. But still Sarah did not climb into the vehicle.

"Other trans-" she began to query, her eyes darting around the area in search of the elusive method.

"_Suit yourself_! If you'd rather _stay_ and find out exactly what atrocities they are capable of…?" he growled angrily with a sneer, seeming to gather his garments around him in preparation… for _something_…

But before she even had time to fully register his nasty retort a large streak of red light unexpectedly flew out of the mist, slipping between the not quite shut gates, striking the man forcefully in the chest. He grunted loudly at the brutal impact that lifted him off his feet and threw him several feet backwards where he crashed heavily onto the driveway, skidding harshly over the hard, gravelly road. He hollered out in pain, his whole body writhing and jerking ferociously on the spot, clawing at his chest, the erratic movement punctuated by several more coarse cries, moans and groans.

Sarah gasped; horrified at the sight, and for a moment was frozen in shock, but was quickly coaxed into action when she heard the dark man groan roughly again and hiss with a laboured, breathy _almost_ sob, "Not yet… no…"

She ran around her open door and over to the crumpled form and found him trying to drag himself to his feet; moaning and muttering incomprehensibly. Immediately she hooked him under his arm and hauled him upwards to his knees. He was clasping his hands feverishly to his chest, breathing erratically.

"Hey… up… come on. Are you alright… what the hell was that?" she blurted, not quite sure which question she wanted an answer for most.

The dark man snapped his head up to her and looked at her sharply. Abruptly he appeared to consider her in a calculating manner and nodded; then grimaced in pain, dipping his head once more while again trying to push himself up from the ground.

With another tug, along with the man's own efforts, Sarah had him upright and once he seemed somewhat secure on his feet she gently pushed him in the direction of her vehicle.

"Go get in the car," she directed gently, mildly surprised when he did not argue. Instead, hunching over himself and still clutching at his chest, he limped unsteadily toward the vehicle making small hisses and moans of pain as he went.

Without knowing why, she paused momentarily to scoop up the stick that had been flung from his hand onto the grassed edge when he was struck. She scrambled up behind him and after he practically toppled into the front passenger seat with an agonised groan, she shoved the door shut for him and clambered around to the driver's side again.

She climbed into her seat, flung the slim rod of timber to the floor between the seats and reached for the handle. As soon as she had pulled her door closed she heard the welcoming and reassuring purr of the engine. A paranoid glance at the gates had her witness another streak of red surge out of the more dense mist within the grounds in her vague direction. She gasped, flinched and ducked out of the way reflexively, but this time the fiery streak of light appeared to bounce off the inside of the fence instead. It was followed by a purple flash and a blaze of sickly green that impacted much closer to the gates.

"Their magic cannot penetrate the wards… and we have a minute or so before they get the gates open again… but we have to go _now_," the dark man suddenly uttered with some difficulty, the sound of his voice startling Sarah. However, without really understanding all he had explained, she felt reassured that she still had enough time to get away… _just_!... and also a new urgency to get this vehicle moving!

She nodded her understanding and hurriedly grasped the gearstick; brutally shoving it into reverse. In her haste and anxiousness to get away though, she lifted her foot from the clutch a little too quickly and stalled the engine.

"Shit," she said, but turned the key and the engine fired immediately. She tried again to lift her foot from the clutch, but the engine choked again and died. Starting to panic, she gasped a desperate sob.

She thrust the car out of gear and pumped the pedal twice quickly in hopes of losing a little of the tension in her legs. Depressing the pedal again, she again thrust the gearstick back into reverse.

Sarah again lifted her foot, but almost screamed out in hysterics when the engine cut out once more. Then suddenly his hand was covering hers on the gearstick and his deep voice crooned to her. "Easy… slow down, deep breaths… don't panic. Do it again."

Concentrating hard on his commands, his voice, and the cool hand enfolded over hers, she depressed the clutch, turned the key in the ignition and this time slowly lifted her foot from the pedal, alternately applying gentle pressure to the accelerator.

"Slow… smooth," he reminded her again, and she felt grateful for his coaching. Even though she had done this literally thousands of times before she had never had such pressure to get it right and had found herself unexpectedly and inconveniently uncoordinated. In her moment of panic his calm tone and composed advice made all the difference.

When _this_ time the vehicle surged into rearward motion, she practically sobbed with happiness. She steered the car backwards onto the road and her passenger's hand dropped away almost unnoticed. Only when she was a good two hundred meters or so down the road (and out of the strange mist that had plagued her since she had pulled up) did she dare to stop and repeat the careful, measured steps to get the car into forward motion and turn around.

She delightedly sped away, chased onwards by a fresh surge of rolling, ominous fog, but found herself sobbing quietly as the tension and fear of this recent terror ebbed away. She let the tears fall freely for a time, concentrating on nothing but the road though blurry eyes, but when they had run their course she ran her hands over her cheeks to wipe away the remnant dampness. Sarah flipped down the visor above her head and flicked on the small map reading light in the centre of the car's ceiling so she could see her reflection in the small mirror. Checking herself out between necessary glances at the road she noticed she looked terrible… a pale, sickly, tear streaked face peered back at her. However apart from a few aches and pains from her fall she was okay; she took a deep breath.

As satisfied with her appearance as she was going to get she flipped up the visor again and replaced her left hand on the steering wheel. In the dim glow cast by the remaining map light she suddenly noticed the copious amount of blood that stained the back of that hand.

'Blood?' she thought, perplexed momentarily; reaching her other hand over briefly to the touch and rub at the stains. 'But how… where…?' But then an abrupt realisation hit her.

_Blood_… _the dark man_… _he had been hurt_… "Oh, Christ!" she whispered, reluctant to confirm her suspicion, but knowing she was going to do it anyway.

She turned her eyes on her silent passenger. He appeared to be uncomfortably scrunched in the seat, but his eyes were shut, and Sarah might have just assumed he was merely asleep, except that he was _covered_ in blood, and the seat in which he was sitting was also smeared with dark red. It didn't look good for him at all!

"Jesus…" she uttered in shock, grimacing at the sight.


	2. Chapter 2  The Dark Passenger

_**My appologies for the confusion with the alter-egos... 'twas a bit of an experiment, about reveiws and being new etc... just for my own curiosity really...**_

_**And I have a dark secret... Julie said I wasn't to post this until it was finished...**_

_**Suffice it to say I don't have sufficient will power - do please forgive my faults... I am not made of steel... :p**_

**_*Julie sends me to corner to think about what I have just done*_**

**_Anyway... on to the fic. Severus has been struck down and has been bundled into the Muggle woman's car... what will she make of him?_**

**Chapter 2** – _The Dark Passenger_

"Are you awake?" she asked, somewhat fearfully.

The dark man cracked his eyes open a little. "Yes," he replied softly, hissing in panted breaths.

Sarah was literally speechless for a moment, feeling quite overwhelmed by the potential magnitude of the man's injuries given the amount of blood visible.

"How bad is it?" she asked, terrified of what his answer was going to be.

The man looked down upon himself and briefly rolled his bloodied, shaking hands one at a time so he could see the volume of loss spilled over his skin and examined the rest of the scene including the red stains on the seat upholstery.

"Bad," he confirmed with a soft breath.

"Oh, God…" Sarah muttered to herself, shaking her head lightly.

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to stop and take a look?"

"No!" he exclaimed urgently despite his obvious poor condition. "Do not stop for anything… anything at all!" he stressed. "They will be searching… hunting. Just continue to head north."

Somewhat relieved that she would not have to 'look' at the mess the man's chest was surely in, just yet anyway, Sarah immediately glanced in her rear view mirror for any sign of a pursuer.

The man had turned his gaze upon Sarah now and had witnessed her compulsive check in the mirror. "They won't be travelling by car," he simply stated.

She glanced at him. "Well… what do you mean… how then? I mean if these blokes have bloody helicopters or something…" she said, leaning forward slightly to check the sky out her windows – or what she could see of it anyway.

"No," he verified, "they'll use… other means," he elucidated hesitantly.

Sarah snorted in frustrated amusement at his explanation that didn't seem to actually explain _anything_. "What… like your '_other _transport'?" she retorted sarcastically, wobbling her head in a cynical imitation. Sarah hadn't forgotten the callous tone he had taken with her when she had merely been trying to understand what was happening – notably whether she was supposed to _wait_ for him to get in the car with her or not.

'With hindsight perhaps I should have run over the smartarse prick in my haste to get away,' she thought in spiteful amusement.

Sarah glanced at him again to gauge his response to her mockery and was met by a withering glare. She blinked at the venom he was able to convey with that one look and sucked in a sharp breath; quickly turning her attention back to the road, but remaining extremely aware of him through her peripheral vision.

He didn't hold the glare long and soon enough his expression was back to one that told too clearly of his suffering and he also averted his gaze.

"No… _different_ again," he uttered softly before huffing a shaky sigh.

"Like what?" Sarah asked, not content to let the topic die there, quite curious as to what the man could possibly mean even though she felt intimidated by him on one hand, and quite peeved at him on another. She turned her head toward him to observe his response.

He caught her gaze once more before roaming her entire face; measuring her pithily. Quickly coming to some kind of conclusion about her he turned his head away to watch the road.

"Brooms," he then offered succinctly, with a hint of a condescending sneer evident beyond the pain creasing his features.

Sarah almost choked on her snort of amusement when she turned back to watch the road. "What?" she half cackled in clear disbelief. "You mean like a witch?" she added, this time her mirth was unmistakable. She could not help but turn back to him briefly and roll her eyes.

He caught the patronizing reaction but chose to ignore it. "Precisely," he simply replied and despite the pain he was in he very nearly smirked at how quickly the Muggle woman snapped her head back to stare at him.

"What… so you're running away from a bunch of broom-flying hags?" Sarah quipped back sardonically as soon as she remembered to close her gaping mouth.

He scoffed sharply, which he immediately regretted; the abrupt movement twinged his chest considerably. He gasped and blew a slow breath out to try to ease the increased discomfort.

"Don't be ridiculous… hags are almost an entirely different _species_," he informed her with a snap, his almost whispered tone supercilious, therefore revealing his attitude regarding the idea of being chased down by a mob of hideous, old, apparently barely human women. "Besides, hags cannot ride brooms; they're simply not magical enough!" He hissed in pain as he tried to adjust himself in the seat.

Sarah frowned at the man's proclamation, trying to work out whether he was being serious or not. Her common sense told her that he _must_ be having a laugh, yet his tone when he'd spoken, plus the fact that it seemed to be taking quite an effort for him to say anything at all (and why would he waste it on joking) gave her the very opposite impression.

"But… none of that's real though… is it?" she felt the compulsion to clarify, expecting him to ridicule her for the ludicrous question at any moment. She glanced at him quickly to see his reaction feeling suddenly wrong-footed; as though her world had tilted slightly and was about to reveal a whole new reality of up versus down.

Not at all comfortable with the notion of such a potential change in orientation she fought the sensation furiously in her mind – gripping tightly to pre-conceived truths despite the perception of a fresh set of certainties pressing urgently at the fringes of her consciousness. She reinforced the battle in her mind by voicing a rationalization.

"I mean… I know witchcraft is an ingrained part of mythology and even accepted to some degree in British history but… well, there's no actual proof that any such phenomenon exists, is there?"

The dark man did actually glower at her incredulously for a long while, making her feel quite foolish for suggesting such an absurd notion, but instead of scoffing at her again he merely turned his face away in apparent disgust; leaving her just as unsure of herself as before.

"_Muggles_…" he muttered in scornful impatience, "you're all so bloody narrow minded – won't even accept what you see right in front of you with your own bloody eyes… always trying to rationalise the 'proof' away…" He closed his eyes and groaned softly; resting his head as comfortably as he could in his new position against the headrest.

Sarah was silenced by his edict for several minutes. Truth be told, she was stunned into mute shock by the flood of thoughts and recent memories his assertion had triggered. She suddenly remembered the eerie fog that had surged strangely around her and her car, its bizarre behaviour alone encouraging her to flee the scene – and she would have had she been able. She was also reminded of the astonishing feats this dark man had seemed to achieve with his… magical stick?; he'd merely waved the silly thing in the air and those huge iron gates had begun to creak closed, as if he merely willed them to. And then there was her car which was inexplicably, and incredibly, running perfectly now despite her fuel gauge still reading 'empty'. And now she was thinking about it there were the seemingly supernatural, frightening streaks of light that had shot out of the mist; one in particular that had hit its mark, causing apparently extensive, quite debilitating damage to the man sitting next to her.

'Oh, God… how could these things have been able to just vanish from my mind?' she questioned herself silently, alarmed. Sarah began to breathe short, shallow breaths as her mind tried to grapple with the marvels she had recently witnessed.

"So… so it _is_ true then. Is that what you're saying… that magic is real? Was that thing that you did - with the car and the gate – that was _magic_?"

As much as the Muggle woman finally comprehending and acknowledging all that had occurred in front of her was appreciated by him, the dark man did not respond. He was feeling the effects of his injury more than ever at the moment. He could feel his whole body quaking in shock now that the adrenaline was wearing off and he was acutely aware of his strength failing. He didn't feel like participating in this discussion anymore, he just wanted to rest.

Without opening his eyes he answered her. "Yes," he hissed with a slight nod, his breaths short, sharp and slightly laboured. Moments later his body gave a violent shudder which forced a groan from his gritted teeth.

He felt a hand grasp him on his shoulder. "Hey… how are you faring? You don't look so good… I think I should do something-"

"No!" he insisted again. "Don't stop… head north… it'll wait," he muttered, noticing he had started to feel a little light headed along with the other symptoms.

Sarah shook her head in concern after he breathed another quiet moan. "Alright… just… just don't die on me, okay," she joked half-heartedly.

"I will do my very best not to," he quipped back quickly. It made Sarah smile thinly in relief; it appeared that at least he wasn't that critical that he couldn't throw back a little wit in her face. However, he did not look (or sound) very well from what she could see of him by the car's interior lights.

"Appreciated," she whispered loud enough for him to hear it, giving his shoulder one last light squeeze and returning her hand to the steering wheel.

They travelled in silence for a few minutes before Sarah spoke up again.

"My name is Sarah, in case you were interested.

There was a long period of silence and Sarah had all but given up on a response; imagining the man must have been asleep or something when she heard him take in a breath to speak.

"Severus," he said, just loud enough for her to hear.

"Huh?" she queried, not very eloquently.

"_My_ name… is Severus," he repeated for her.

Sarah thought it a strange name… she'd definitely not heard of it before. But, after all, how many… er, well he wasn't a witch so – what would that make him: a _wizard_? – how many other wizards had she met before now?

"Oh, right… nice to meet you, er… Severus" she mumbled clumsily.

"Indeed," he muttered back softly, causing her to smile again.

Sarah went back to watching the road ahead of her. She had absolutely no idea where she was, except that she was somewhere north of the small village she'd been searching through. This was not an area of the country she knew very well at all and if she didn't see a sign post soon telling her where she was she'd have to consult her map in the glove box before she became irrevocably lost.

"So where is it I'm supposed to be heading, anyway?"

"North… just go north," he answered vaguely, with a little bite of annoyance in his tone, Sarah noticed. She got the distinct impression he wasn't coping as well as he would like her to think and was wishing to be left in peace. She decided to hold her own tongue for a little while so he could get some rest.

"Fine… no problem. Go ahead and get some sleep if you can, I'll wake you if I need anything."

He gave a relieved sigh, and Sarah knew she had pleased him. She observed him for several minutes with quick glances between concentrating on the road. He really did look uncomfortable in every way.

'Just don't die,' she thought as the man finally settled and she heard his breathing even out, suggesting he was sleeping for now. Her concern for this virtual stranger was gnawing at her insides, and escalating more and more as time passed. With another glance at the blood spilled over the man she determined that he would need some kind of medical intervention as soon as possible, else he really was going to be in danger of dying! She increased her speed a little and reached up to turn off the interior light. There wasn't anything she could do right now, so she didn't want the morbid scene reminding her of her anxiety… it wouldn't help.

The road became narrower and eventually they were travelling on nothing but an unsealed, dirt track. Fortunately it was fairly smooth and didn't jostle the occupants of the car too much. Sarah kept glancing over to her silent passenger who seemed to be still sleeping despite the bumpy ride; not that she could make out much in the darkness, but she still did not wish to see all the gruesome red blood that had seeped out over the fabrics.

The dark man had been asleep for nearly an hour and a half now and although Sarah had seen evidence of several farming estates, or more accurately the driveways of those apparent properties, she had yet to come across another car or even see a farmhouse's lights in the distance. They were essentially all alone on this road and this made Sarah feel quite vulnerable and insecure. She wished the man would wake… and soon.

She stretched herself in the seat with a light groan, feeling stiff and uncomfortable in the seated position. Since nearly an hour ago her pelvic area had begun to ache tediously; and she was now wishing she could get out a take a short stroll to work out the kinks.

Quite abruptly the track narrowed ahead of her even further and Sarah could see from the light of her headlights that it looked much rougher.

"This can't be right, can it?" she muttered with concern.

She had been instructed to keep heading north, but surely this wasn't the right way.

'Is this road still heading north, anyway?' she thought questioningly.

As she slowed the car down at the beginning of the narrowed track she happened to notice another road that continued off to the left. Unsure about which direction she ought to continue in, Sarah pulled the car to a complete stop to give her a moment to contemplate the dilemma; trying to get an idea from her surroundings.

Still unable to make up her mind after several moments she decided to consult her dark passenger.

"Hey… Severus," she called gently, "which way am I supposed to go?"

The man did not respond.

"Severus," she called, her voice a little louder. But still the man did not wake.

Beginning to get a little worried, Sarah reached out her hand and gave him a gentle shake by his nearest shoulder. "Hey… wake up."

Still the man did not move. More than a little concerned now, Sarah twisted in her seat and reached both hands over to the unresponsive man. One grasped his hand which was resting gently upon his own stomach and the other reached up and caressed the back of her fingers across his forehead and down his temple hoping to rouse him. However her fingers detected that the man's skin was alarmingly cool to the touch. In fact he was freezing!

In her panic, Sarah had neglected to realise that the car's heating was not working. She herself was still wearing her warm outdoor coat and consequently had not noticed the cold air seeping through the vehicle.

Along with that the man had lost a fair amount of blood, and Sarah imagined his body would be having a difficult time keeping itself warm, even with his own warm cloak covering his shoulders.

"Shit," she hissed… it was probably no wonder he was unconscious. She shook her head at the predicament, knowing she really had to do something now else this man could very well die right here sitting next to her in her car…

'If he hasn't already, that is,' she thought morbidly.

Letting his hand drop lightly back onto his stomach she glanced around what she could see outside the car. Just off to the left, immediately before the new turn-off was a relatively short tree with quite thick foliage considering the season and an aged broad trunk. Behind it was a hedge row that veered around to the right, effectively encasing a small area in which she could conceal her car if Sarah could squeeze the vehicle into it.

"Perfect," she whispered, reversing the car a small way and turning the vehicle around, she then began manoeuvring it into the tight gap behind the tree as far as she could back it.

Anyone driving along the road would likely be able to see the bonnet sticking out a little, though Sarah was not attempting to conceal herself from anyone driving a _car_; she hoped that the overhanging foliage would be effective in covering the car entirely from anyone seeking them who was _flying_ however.

Now unable to open the doors, Sarah found the lever down beside her seat and released the latch that held her seat in position. The chair slid back and allowed the young woman to twist out of her seated position to kneel on her seat and lean over the man.

Reluctant as she was to again see the gruesome scene, she could hardly help him effectively in the dark. She reached up and turned on the interior light. Sarah would not keep it on long, she decided.

Taking her first look at him she feared he was already beyond her help; he looked so pale and his face slack, his mouth slightly open. He didn't appear to be breathing.

Trying desperately not to panic, Sarah unclasped the heavy, high-collared cloak and let it fall to the sides, deliberately ignoring the mess of his robes and blood midway down his chest for now. Next she forced her fingers to undo the top five of what appeared to be a great many little, black buttons that trailed down the entire length of the frock coat underneath. Under that was a white linen shirt… she undid four hooks that held it closed and finally slipped her small hand beneath the shirt to feel for a heartbeat or breath movements at the top of his chest.

"Come on… please, please still be there," she murmured softly before remaining absolutely still to feel and listen.

The skin on his chest, whilst still too cool to be considered healthy, was noticeably warmer than his hands or face. That was a good sign, Sarah decided, patiently waiting for more evidence of life. And _there_… that was definitely his chest rising a little, wasn't it? And after another moment she was sure she detected the quick rhythmic flutter of his heart deep within his chest on her fingertips, though it was exceptionally light and equally as ambiguous. She lowered her cheek to his mouth and was greatly relieved to feel a tiny gust of warm breath ghost over her skin.

"Oh thank God," she said shakily. She let her hand come up from his chest and cup his cool cheek. "Severus… hang in there, okay… I'll see what I've got here to help you."

Turning in her seat toward the back of the car, she again reached for the levers along the side and tilted her chair back as far as it would go. She scrambled quickly into the back seat, shoving a few of her bags off onto the floor, and reached behind the seat to remove the parcel tray so she could access the boot. After yanking a heavy suitcase out of her way, and rummaging about in the darkness she managed to find the car's first aid kit.

She tossed the small zippered case onto the driver's seat and proceeded to fumble around in the bags she had tossed onto the floor and retrieved a towel and washcloth and threw them atop the case.

After a small hesitation she reached back over to the boot and dragged over her make-up and toiletry bag and added it to the growing pile on the driver's side seat.

Pushing aside the awareness of the ache that had suddenly (rather alarmingly) increased in her pelvis and across her stomach where the dark man had fallen upon her, Sarah then clambered back to the front and quickly decided that the best place to operate from would be straddling his legs in front of the passenger seat.

As she gained a stable position in front of the man she again reached down the side of the seat and with one knee on the seat and the other foot on the floor, she pulled the lever and pushed the seat back as far as it would go, giving herself more room in which to work. She then fumbled about for the second lever and whilst holding the seat so it didn't drop too quickly with the man's weight, she guided the seat to recline back as she had done with the driver's seat, though this time not allowing the seat to sink as low as it would go, only about four fifths of the way.

The dark man moaned lightly at the change in position; his knees lifting a little in protest of the sudden stretching of his injury, but moments later he lay still and unresponsive once more.

"Easy, hon," Sarah crooned mechanically, rubbing comfortingly along his right thigh, before sighing and shaking her head at the pitiful sight in front of her. He was in quite a mess; blood soaked through everything, his clothing torn at the chest and descending diagonally across his belly, hanging together by mere threads in some places, and the scope of it momentarily stunned Sarah into inaction. She was quite reluctant to see what the damage would be like beneath the ruined clothing.

"Enough of this," she suddenly whispered, realising she just had to get on with it. "I've got to get this light turned off."

Sarah got stuck in undoing both rows of buttons, ignoring the gore as much as she was able, until both shirt and coat were resting to the sides, clear of the man's injured chest. The gash that stretched across his middle, from just above his left nipple in a diagonal slash that narrowed at the very top of his right hip, was horrific. The flesh at his chest in particular gaped wide and looking at it made Sarah feel quite ill and shaky. She just wasn't qualified in any way to deal with such a severe injury.

With a deep breath she decided on a plan of action.

Reaching over to her make-up case she unclasped the lid and retrieved a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, and scooped up the washcloth. Dousing the cloth with the alcohol she began to clean the wound as best as she could. Blood had begun to seep in slow pulses again from the wound at one end and this both alarmed her, yet comforted her. Whilst it was very bad that he was still losing blood after he had already lost so much, Sarah was aware that while he was bleeding like this she knew he still lived.

Next she cut and folded one half of the towel into a neat rectangle and placed it as a pad against the long cut after pushing the gaping edges of flesh together as effectively as she could and taping them at a few intervals with some sticky plaster. She then dug a long bandage out of the first-aid kit and began to wrap it around the man's middle to secure the piece of folded towel tightly in place against his chest and stomach. She was able to pass the bandage behind him beneath his clothes through a small gap between his back and the seat by wrapping one arm one way, and passing the bandage to the other hand wrapped around him the opposite direction. It was quite an intimate activity and Sarah was very aware of Severus' masculine body as she proceeded.

As soon as the long bandage was fully wrapped around the man's middle, she secured it with two small elastic claw clips and sat back on her heel, one knee resting on the outer edge of the seat next to his hip and her other leg straddled across his left leg, the knee resting on the small patch of seat between his thighs, and blew out a long, deep, breathy sigh.

She looked down upon herself and saw that she was practically coated in the red fluid that had erringly escaped from its proper place within his veins. It disturbed her to see his lifeblood spilled over her skin such as it was. But it was almost completely dry and there was not much she could do about it right now.

As she considered how she had ended up hovering over a man in her car, whom she had very likely - hopefully - just saved (or _helped_ at least) from bleeding to death, a virtual stranger - a _strange_ stranger, at that, covered in his blood, hidden from possible pursuers… she began to feel like crying. But before she allowed herself to get distracted by her building distress she reached up and flicked off the interior light, plunging both occupants of the car into virtual total blackness.

"Severus," she again tried to rouse the man, her small hand searching out his cold digits in the darkness, squeezing gently in the hope he might respond.

"Please wake up," she murmured. "There isn't anything else I can do… please." She allowed his hand to rest against his side again, disheartened at receiving no reaction.

Her limbs were shaking with shock and anxiety now that the previous subject of her focus had been attended to as best she could, and now she abruptly became more aware of the increasingly uncomfortable ache throbbing in her own lower abdomen, automatically knowing - _understanding_ - that something was quite wrong.

She suddenly remembered she had better cover the man back over with his clothing, torn or not, as it was far too cold to leave him exposed as he was. Fastening the buttons where she could and after lastly pulling the man's cloak across his front Sarah decided it wasn't enough. She draped the second half of the towel across the man's chest and then removed her own coat, rested against the seat alongside him and snuggled her own body close to his for warmth, covering them both with her removed coat which was still warm from her wearing it.

Deep inside her pelvis she felt a stabbing pain; Sarah gasped lightly and clutched at her belly trying to soothe the ache with a firm rub. A greater concern for herself was now sparking in her chest and she gave a small sob of despair; terrified, worried and upset that it appeared _this_ was happening to her.

In the light of day Sarah would have viewed the possibility of this happening with mixed feelings, even perhaps considering it a blessing, but in the midst of the reality of it actually likely occurring the whole event could only be perceived as a frightening and tragic disaster.

Her distressed, saddened emotions caught up with her quickly and she leaned forward, one hand protectively covering her belly and the other clutching a handful of dark robes unconsciously, burying her face into the plush seat beside Severus' shoulder and began to cry.

Sarah wept openly, expressively… wetly; warm tears dropping quickly from her cheeks to soak into the cuffs of her knitted top and run in rivulets across her fisted hand, her shoulders shuddering with each despairing sob.


	3. Chapter 3  The Three Phials

_**Thanks for all the reviews... I shall get around to answering my reviews at some stage. Just have to get rid of the hubby off to work. He doesn't like it when I spend hours on the computer 'chatting' with imaginary friends. (Narrow minded git!)**_

_**Anyway, please enjoy another chapter (if there is anyone reading who has managed to resist reading over at the other account ;) ).**_

_**Well, it appears there are several issues plaguing the two huddled in the car... let's see if things get worse...**_

**Chapter 3** – _The Three Phials_

Severus 'came to' with the distraught sounds of crying echoing in his ear. He felt the odd weight of something hooked over his left leg, and the shuddering of a warm body against his side.

His chest was stinging ferociously and he was finding it quite difficult to breathe in a decent lungful of air. Through the dizzy, fogginess of his mind he was feeling wholly disoriented. His reclined position confused him; he had no idea where he was.

He concentrated on recalling what had happened to him, and small snippets that came to him of his flight from Malfoy Manor elucidated to him at least why his _chest_ hurt so much!

His last memories were of travelling as a passenger in a car, he thought, with the girl… no, _woman_, the _Muggle_ woman… but, he could not detect any sounds of the vehicle.

Where in Merlin's name was he?

He cracked his eyes open a fraction and reconciled that he was in fact still in the small car by his, somewhat odd, viewpoint of the steering wheel through the darkness. That aspect also cleared up the fact that he seemed to be, for all intents and purposes, lying down. The seat must have been reclined at some point, he decided.

Severus also took note that the woman – _Sarah_, he just now remembered – was not sitting in the driver's seat. But of course _that_ was who was lying against him on his other side, wasn't it? And she was crying… quite distraughtly it seemed.

He summoned enough energy and rolled his head toward the warm body sobbing against his shoulder.

"What's wrong… why have we stopped?" he managed to croak out between huffed breaths.

She gasped in surprise and raised her head to look at him. "Oh thank God," she blurted swiping at her eyes and cheeks with her fingers, trying hard to make her snivelling subside.

"You… um, I didn't know which way to go and you… you wouldn't wake up," she blurted, her distress at the revelation almost setting the sobbing in motion again. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, fighting to calm herself.

'I was unconscious?' he questioned silently in alarm, frowning in consternation. 'That is _bad_, very bad!' he thought… deciding immediately that he was exceptionally foolish for allowing his injuries to affect him so acutely; especially when he actually had a remedy – or more accurately a _treatment_ – for his worst symptom about his person, despite having lost his wand.

He'd not considered using it earlier simply because he didn't want to waste it unnecessarily… but now he could see that had been an excessively idiotic and dangerous judgment. Obviously his injury was far worse than he had realised, and had affected him far quicker than he anticipated. He could not afford to take risks with his life as it stood now… he currently carried essential intelligence for the Order of the Phoenix within his mind, and simply _must_ deliver it to Dumbledore as soon as he possibly could!

"In my pocket… inside my coat there is a phial…" He tried to reach across for it himself with his free hand (the one that was not trapped between his side and the woman) but was brought up short by the stabbing pain that shot through his torso at the twisting effort. He gasped and hissed, clutching toward his chest under the coat draped over him instead.

"What have you done?" he demanded breathily, feeling evidence of the bulky bandages beneath his clothes.

After a brief frown of confusion and concern Sarah quickly pushed herself up onto her elbow, her coat slipping away off both of them.

"Just cleaned the wound with alcohol and wrapped it… you were still bleeding, I was hoping this would help."

Well that explained the stinging, Severus decided with a sigh, nodding his understanding… and if he was honest, his _gratitude_ as well. It seemed Sarah wasn't as obtuse as he'd first assumed.

He tried to move his other hand to retrieve the phial, but there was no chance he could free it without greater effort… and he was loathe to attempt it given the pain his previous efforts had resulted in.

"Here, let me, I'llget it out for you… your wound is quite severe, you should really avoid moving too much," she offered with a shudder of her breath, placing her hand over his and guiding it away from the bandages to gently lie on his stomach away from the injury. She hated to hear the evidence of pain; it made her cringe with sympathy.

"Where abouts?" she asked, reaching for the opening in his cloak, but hesitating a moment until she received further directions, sniffing away the remnants of her crying fit.

He blew out a breath, swallowing thickly, fighting against his head spinning from the sudden, sharpened pain.

"Left side… inner breast pocket," he instructed, his voice strained. He could feel his hands begin to shake and realised abruptly just how severe his injury must be… and also just how much blood he must have lost for him to be feeling quite so weak. The notion startled him.

The woman rifled through the appropriate pockets closest to her and eventually produced three such phials from their depths.

"Which one?" she queried. "There are three here. This one… the big one… it feels warm."

"The blue one… the small, blue one," he replied breathily, willing the woman to work out which one he needed quickly. He could already feel himself fading back toward the dim fringes of unconsciousness. He closed his eyes as the pull became too intense to resist.

The woman seemed to scrabble backwards from him and he briefly lamented the warmth of her proximity. He felt an increased weight across his left leg, and strangely delighted in the sensation of a small, warm hand balancing her weight upon his right leg as she reached across him to somewhere.

A sudden bright light abruptly pierced through to his eyes despite his lids being closed. With a slight hitch of breath he flinched away from the dazzling glow; turning his head to the side.

"Sorry," the woman apologised softly, and with another slight shift of weight across his legs he felt the sudden, welcome return of warmth from her palm as she cradled his cheek; her thumb tracked lightly over his cheekbone.

"Here… this is the blue one," she said, "What do you do with it… what is it? Do you have to _drink_ it… is it some kind of… er… potion? Will it help you?" she asked uncertainly, the questions tumbling out quickly in her anxiousness.

He forced his eyes to flutter open, squinting against the harsh light to confirm the woman's claim. Indeed the indigo blue potion swirled inside the small glass vessel held out for him to see. He nodded lightly, "Yes."

He lifted his arm to take the phial, but his hand shook with such a force that he worried he might drop and smash the precious brew.

"Here, let me help," the woman offered immediately; and wrapped her own hand around his trembling fingers as he took hold of the phial. She helped guide the glass tube to his mouth and he greedily swallowed the mixture down knowing how much better he would feel once it took effect.

He struggled to maintain his poise as waves of dizziness crashed over him and his chest throbbed at even this meagre effort. The Muggle woman squeezed lightly around his hand still grasping the phial and he scrunched his eyes shut. With a slight twist of his wrist he unconsciously trapped the woman's fingers, that were curled around his own hand, against his cheek at the corner of his mouth; feeling his warm breath bounce off her skin and back to him. Her solid presence was comforting and he used it as a base for his focus. After several moments when the dizziness settled a little and as soon as he became conscious to what he had done, he released it immediately; permitting her to take back the empty phial from his grasp.

He kept his eyes closed and lowered his arm back to his side; letting his hand rest against the seat. He concentrated on calming his breathing and trying to relax his entire body while waiting for the potion to work. There was no point in fighting the pain, it invariably only made it that much worse.

"Severus…?" the woman spoke, her tone quiet, yet an element of distress more than evident.

"Give me a few minutes!" he demanded tersely despite his poor condition; the scowl shaped on his brow he felt more than adequately conveyed his irritation at her interruption to his focus, without needing to open his eyes to glare at her.

She was silent and still for several moments after his outburst, and through his calming, soothing meditation Severus found a trace of regret for the harsh tone he'd taken with the woman who had afforded the time to _help_ him while he was weakened and quite vulnerable.

But he did not apologise… it was against his habit to do so, and he hardly had the strength to give his regrets tangible responses right now. And besides, somewhere deep down he attributed a good deal of responsibility to his _being_ injured in the first place to the Muggle woman anyway. If she'd just done what she was told straight away they would have gotten away without incident!

Well, probably… … maybe…

He huffed out a small sigh. He was suffering badly, and he was very worried… _burdened_. Both contributed to his exceptionally short temper and disagreeable attitude, and for a man who was ordinarily brusque and quite frequently snide the outcome was rather unsightly… even to his own observation. Out of a small feeling of guilt (and not liking that feeling one bit) he deliberately turned his mind to dwell on more specific and important concerns.

The Potter boy was at risk!

In recent weeks the Dark Lord had discovered a possible loophole in the protection invoked by the child's mother at the time of her death and had been working toward exploiting it. Tonight had brought the first news that the fiend had finally made a breakthrough of sorts and was currently implementing an imminent plan to test the wards of the teen's summer home with the hope of gaining access.

Severus had been assigned an urgent potions task, the product of which was to be used in the scheme, and was supposed to have been busy brewing at this very minute. However, unfortunately, against adamant objections that he did not under any circumstances require an assistant, he'd been appointed a partner anyway; Alecto Carrow.

He'd started the project in the deep, subterranean rooms of the Malfoy Manor with the brutish, unappealing witch helping to prepare the ingredients alongside him, and Severus had begrudgingly had to acknowledge the woman had sufficient skills… but he knew he needed to get rid of his witness if he had any chance of alerting the Order to the potential peril in time.

It had been a risky move, but Severus had weighed the act against not acting at all and had come to the inexorable conclusion that he had no choice.

So, half way through the brew, when Alecto had turned her back on him to gather further equipment or ingredients showing no obvious intentions of leaving him alone to work, he had withdrawn his wand and stunned her with plans of Obliviating her recollections of the incident upon his return. He'd further restrained her with bonds that had sprung from the end of his wand ensuring she could not raise the alarm of his duplicity before he returned, in the event the spell were to wear off early.

After snatching a phial and filling it with a sample of the hot potion he'd so far completed, Severus sabotaged the rest of the cauldron full of bubbling liquid, locked and warded the door to the cellar workroom and had stealthily snuck from the grand building and headed immediately for the iron gates at the end of the long driveway. He hoped he would be gone for no more than approximately thirty minutes… not so long as he couldn't make up for lost time in the lab once he resumed his brewing, or that he was likely to be noticed missing, as he was rarely interrupted during his work.

Unfortunately, he'd only managed to achieve a few minutes head start before another Death Eater had found the lab locked with no response to his insistent pounding upon the door whilst delivering an urgent, critical message regarding the brew process from the Dark Lord. He disabled the wards with not a small effort and entered the lab and had discovered Alecto incapacitated in the corner of the room; raising the alarm. He'd called for reinforcements and they had immediately interpreted the worst about Severus' absence and the witch's binds and had begun their pursuit of the turncoat. And now, because he'd been delayed in his flight after he had literally collided with Sarah at the estate gates, Severus faced the possibility that he might not impart his warning to the Order in time to get Lily's boy and his relatives out of their house before the Dark Lord's attack; for even though he was unquestionably considered the best potions brewer within the Death Eater ranks, others, such as Alecto, could still complete this task adequately in his absence.

In his condition now the anxiety and strain of succeeding in his duty was getting to him. His breathing had become quick and shallow over the previous few minutes and he groaned softly as his chest stung bitterly in protest.

"You okay?" Sarah's voice whispered from somewhere above him. He cracked his eyes open and peered at her.

"That would be rather subjective, wouldn't it?" he hissed back snidely, resting his eyes again. He clamped his mouth shut after the comment had escaped… it seemed he could not stop the caustic retorts even if he wanted to. The pain and torment was eating away at his tolerance for anything and everything.

After a few silent moments he felt the woman begin to clamber off his legs, allowing the cool air to seep through the fabric of his trousers and into his skin, and Severus suddenly realised how much he didn't want her to move. She helped keep him warm, sure, and it was _cold_… but that wasn't the reason he wanted her to stay put. It turned out he relished the contact and the comfort it brought when he was feeling so low and vulnerable. To know she was right there took away a great deal of his _fear_… if not for the circumstances, then at least for his own personal health, anyway.

With a small gasp he suddenly and desperately grabbed out with his hand and clutched at her wrist, hoping to halt her retreat. It had the desired effect; she froze in her current position.

"It's not you…" he tried to explain, catching her gaze, "it's the pain. I… I'm a bit frustrated… edgy."

She looked quite incensed and somewhat distraught at the same time, and seemed unlikely to accept his admittedly lame attempt at an apology.

"What… do you imagine you're the only one?" she shot back at him bitterly.

He frowned in puzzlement. "What?" he said, questioningly. What did she mean by that? Was she _edgy_ too? No doubt. _Frustrated_? Probably. But what about _in pain_? Had she been injured too? He hadn't initially thought so.

"What do you mean?" he asked, wanting clarification.

She stared at him for a couple of moments, almost gauging him… measuring, before she responded with a firm, "Nothing."

She continued to climb off his lap and into the adjacent seat with a loud, wet sniff.

His confused gaze followed her for a minute, taking in her saddened expression before something clicked in his mind.

'Oh, Merlin, she had been crying… when I woke up… sobbing distraughtly, in fact,' he remembered. His mind suddenly clung doggedly to the new mystery, trying to work out what her behaviour was all about.

At first he'd vaguely assumed Sarah had been upset over him and his injury… and then she had mentioned that she had not been able to rouse him. But surely that would not bring her to such mournful tears. He then nearly scoffed at the idea of any woman crying over _him_… the notion was absurd now that he deliberated it closely; nobody had shown any kind of consideration like that for him in the past. And it was especially unlikely when he'd known he'd been so unpleasant to _her_.

And if she had only wanted to wake him to ask him which direction to take… well, surely she would have eventually just chosen a path for herself when it became evident he could not assist – not break down sobbing next to him.

'So _what_ then?' he considered, his eyes skimming over her frame as she removed some articles from the driver's side seat and settled herself into it.

"Sarah, were you hurt?" he asked, his tone unfortunately not sharing the concern that was rapidly building.

Her only response after a pause was to sniff loudly once more. Severus took it as confirmation; for if she had not been, then surely she would deny it.

"Where… how badly?" he demanded. All of sudden he recognised that these circumstances were no longer just about him and his mission anymore.

Sarah waited for a little while before she responded, turning to face the reclined, injured man; her expression sombre.

"It's not what you think," she explained. "I'm pregnant… and, well, I've had some pain down there. I don't really know if it's a problem or not…" She turned back to stare out into the blackness beyond the windscreen, fighting a fresh well of tears.

She was downplaying her real feelings, she knew, but she wasn't really in the mood for sharing herself that intimately with this pig of a man. He'd been nothing but short and irritable with her since she had literally run smack into him.

One tear escaped her resistance and tracked down her left cheek. She quickly brushed it away before wrapping her arm around her belly, shifting uncomfortably after another sharp twinge spiked deep in her abdomen.

Severus blanched in shock at the discovery of the woman's crisis. He gasped out a sigh, instantly acknowledging his own culpability in her misfortune.

"From the fall… er, _our_ collision?" he confirmed.

She nodded, "I think so… yes," she responded succinctly.

His heart sank lower. He'd fallen very heavily on top of the Muggle woman and was undeniably responsible for her injury, which was now potentially threatening the life of her unborn child. He could not have felt worse. Of all the hideous and foul things he had partaken of in his life, harming a child had remained across that line of acceptability for him.

He'd had no problem with intimidation, or punishment… or even outright derisiveness, especially toward his dunderhead, teenaged students… but to physically harm young, innocent, vulnerable children? That was beyond evil; the notion made him feel decidedly ill.

But he was feeling quite sick now anyway. Whether he had intended it or not, him hurting a child, in particular one far more vulnerable than your average, is exactly what had just happened.

He sighed regretfully. "I'm… sorry," he succinctly, yet sincerely, offered.

She glanced at him, taking in a deep breath. "It's not really your fault… it was an accident. Neither of us knew the other was there, I understand that."

It was good that the man was finally apologising for knocking her down, but Sarah knew he was not to blame… she just wanted at least a _little_ consideration shown from the terse man. Of course he was obviously suffering quite tremendously; his injury seemed to be rather severe, and Sarah was more than willing to make exceptions for that… but did he have to be so snide and spiteful about everything?

Severus was now considering the woman's latest comment.

"What _were_ you doing there?" he asked, genuinely at a loss. He could not envision any conceivable reason why a _Muggle_ woman should be walking up _that_ particular driveway so late at night… or at all, come to think of it.

She hesitated a little before she answered; Severus noted the anomaly vaguely.

"I was looking for someone. But… well, I don't think it was the right place, using the benefit of hindsight," she added with a touch of disillusioned sarcasm.

"Not likely, no," he agreed with a slight drawl. "Who?" he added sharply.

"Pardon me?" she asked, perplexed as to his meaning.

"Who was it you were seeking?" he repeated, still curious… and also a smidge suspicious at the same time. The gates at the Malfoy manor had been locked tight to Muggles, with various Notice-Me-Not and Muggle Repelling Charms active upon the estate. Had he himself simply and inadvertantly let her in when he'd opened the gates to allow his own escape, or had she genuinely had some business with the Malfoys after all? This was a crucial fact Severus really needed to ascertain before he allowed the woman to learn anything further about himself or his affairs.

"Er… well… I don't actually know his nam-" she began a little reluctantly, before she was abruptly interrupted by the man's urgent hiss.

"Shh!" he intoned, flinging his arm suddenly out toward her, yanking sharply on her elbow to gain her immediate attention and emphasise his warning. "Quiet, I heard something… get the light out!" he demanded with a harsh, urgent whisper; staring out into the dark beyond the window to his left.

"What?" she whispered in a panicked and flustered way, but immediately leaned forward and reached up for the switch to turn off the car's interior light.

Once the darkness had engulfed them again Severus strained to listen closer, but he was instantly distracted by the little red, glowing dot flashing intermittently on the dashboard of the car.

"Cover that red light!" he ordered at a whisper, and waited in alarm until the dot had been effectively extinguished from view.

Severus felt extremely inadequate and helpless in his condition. He felt he could do little more than bark orders - which the Muggle woman fortunately seemed to be heeding promptly now - but still, apprehension was growing in his gut as he wondered just what he would be able to _do_ about it if his pursuers actually caught up with him and he needed to act to protect not only himself, but Sarah too. A pregnant, potentially _miscarrying_ Sarah, he reminded himself.

He wished intensely that he had been cognizant and mindful enough to search out his wand after it had been stripped from his hand when he had been cursed, because at the moment he and the Muggle woman were practically sitting ducks with no effective means of defending themselves. He could Apparate them away without a wand, he acknowledged – well, in theory at least – but he didn't know if he could even physically move very far or quickly enough without passing out if his earlier efforts had been anything to go by. And a _splinching_ added on top of his current injury did not sound at all appealing either if his symptoms kept him from concentrating sufficiently.

A warm hand suddenly landed upon his thigh, startling him. He gasped a short breath, but soon recognised the gesture as being the Muggle woman seeking reassurance from him through contact. It did not go unappreciated by him either; he could barely see anything with the sudden loss of the bright light and it helped to be able to feel exactly where she was.

"Listen… concentrate hard," he directed very softly, "Tell me what you can hear."

Severus' own breathing was echoing loudly in his ears; he was still struggling with his breaths being sharp and shallow from pain and blood loss – though thankfully he had begun to notice a marginal improvement since taking the _Blood-Replenishing Potion_ – but it was making it difficult to focus on the outside noises. Nevertheless, he'd definitely heard _something_ moments ago, _that_ he was sure of!

They both sat completely still and quiet, straining to hear in the darkness for a few minutes before Sarah broke the silence.

"I can't… what is it I'm supposed to be listenin-" she whispered, but abruptly stopped before she had finished her sentence when the answer became alarmingly apparent on its own.

"There's no sign of him! You certain you saw one of those Muggle carts?"

Both occupants of the car snapped their chins up to the ceiling of the vehicle, attempting to 'see' where the muffled, yet audible voice had come from. The rough, male tone was answered by a silky, female purr.

"'_Car_', idiot! And no… I didn't see it, but I saw _lights_… which I _supposed_ to have come from such a contraption."

Sarah gasped audibly and seemed to lean closer to Severus' leg; the dark man tensed and shot a hand forward in her direction in warning to be absolutely silent and still. He made contact with her shoulder and squeezed probably too tightly when his injured torso twinged badly at the effort; he was hard pressed to prevent his own gasp from escaping. He silently prayed that the woman was intelligent enough not allow the removal of whatever it was she had used to cover the red, blinking light; for its (and subsequently _her_) position under the windscreen made it extremely susceptible to being detected by whomever it was likely circling on broomstick above them.

Quite frankly, Severus could scarcely understand how they had not yet noticed the car parked beneath them anyway. Surely the moonlight (though not full, but present nonetheless) would allow enough illumination to discover the vehicle?

They vaguely heard the man scoff at his companion. "It's not bloody likely ole Snape went in a _car_ though, ya daft hag… he bloody well hates _Muggles_!"

Sarah leaned away from him again, seemingly in the direction of the windscreen. Severus assumed she was trying to see if she could spot their pursuers. He attempted to warn her against such an idiotic action with a sharp squeeze with his hand, but she'd pulled her shoulder out of his already tight grasp with a quick tug. He nearly hissed with frustrated irritation.

"You stupid inbred," the witch shot back, "apparently Snape might be a fucking _spy_; he'd obviously _want_ you to think that - who the fuck knows what he really does or doesn't like!"

Severus couldn't help but think Estelle (well, it sounded like Estelle Flint, older cousin of his ex-Slytherin student Marcus Flint) had a point, despite the fact that he had, at least at one time in his life, detested Muggles quite genuinely. He subconsciously catalogued the woman in his mind as being one to watch out for; she was evidently fairly astute.

His eyes now more adapted to the meagre light he thankfully made out Sarah's form moving back toward him; shifting back in her seat a little so she could lean closer to his face; an arm still stretched out to the dash, apparently obscuring the light with her own _hand_.

In a very low, urgent whisper she informed him, "I can't see them. I parked under a tree, a little off the road… just in case. They must be over the top of it." Her breaths were shuddering with apprehension and he was tempted to encourage her to calm herself lest she become hysterical. But he did no such thing, for his own anxiety was through the roof just now; the circumstances did warrant it, after all.

So they were off the road… and under a tree for cover too, apparently. That explained just why they had not been discovered at this stage, at least. Once again this woman proved herself not to be as obtuse as Severus was evidently accustomed to dealing with. This knowledge lessened his unease marginally… things were not yet as dire as he'd initially imagined… _yet_.

"Shh…" he reminded Sarah, the gesture meant to be soothing at the same time. He watched as she blew out a soft calming breath after a light nod of acknowledgement.

Severus instantly decided he ought to become a little more pro-active in this situation in case things were to escalate and he lifted his arm to beckon the woman closer to him again.

"The phials… you said there were three?" he asked in a soft whisper, realising that the third phial would be quite useful to him now. He hadn't deliberately stored the other brew within his robes, so hadn't immediately considered its use. Severus had merely left the bottle in his pocket from a previous occasion and had failed to remove it, though however inadvertently it had ended up in his possession right now he could certainly appreciate its existence.

The voices continued overhead instantly halting the exchange between the two inside the car.

"Maybe it ain't got here yet… the car, you know," the male voice suggested.

'Fuck,' Severus thought to himself, 'please don't wait.'

"Or maybe it's come and gone," the female companion responded. "I'm going down here to have a look around. Perhaps it left some trace… tracks or something."

The two fugitives sheltering in the car beneath the low tree ceased breathing in horror, glancing quickly at one another; mirroring the other's alarmed expressions. They were about to be discovered for sure!


	4. Chapter 4  Surrey Instead

_**Review replys coming soon - I promise! Thank you so much to those who have offered their opinions and comments... you are feeding my addiction and I am grateful for it! :D **_

**_I hope to get some more actual writing done in the coming week. Everyone wish for 'quiet time' in my household so as the hope may come true... _**

**_Oh, and it's not too late to have your say... share your thoughts if you have not so far; I delightfully invite you!_**

**_So, let's see how Severus and his tag-along Muggle work together when things get a little bit hairy, shall we..._**

**Chapter 4** – _Surrey Instead_

"Give me the other phials… quick!" Severus hissed to Sarah, fighting against panic and dread.

She scrambled in her seat a little before informing him with an equally anxious tone, "I put them down here with the First Aid kit and stuff… shit, I can't find them! Can you help… can you cover this light so I have both hands?"

Severus felt his face drain, both with dismay that the phials had been misplaced and apprehension for what had been requested of him. He could barely lift his arm, and she wanted him to sit up and block the little red light for her!

"I can't… I can hardly move!" he hissed, frustrated not only with her but with himself and his helplessness too. Nevertheless, he tested his strength by trying to sit up slightly to see if he could indeed reach the light for Sarah. But he was brought up short when sharp sting lanced across his chest and stomach rendering him breathless, shaking and grimacing in pain. Eyes squeezed shut he slumped back to the seat with defeat, huffing through his teeth waiting for the renewed aching to fade again. Against his every effort a soft moan escaped his lips.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sev… just hold on, I'll find it," Sarah whispered upon hearing his struggle.

His eyes sprung open despite his suffering; not one single person other than his own mother and Lily Evans had ever called him by that moniker. It was both a shock and a painful, yet sentimental reminder to hear it spoken aloud after all these years. And Sarah had not one clue the effect it had had upon him. He mechanically reached out with his hand and gently cupped a hand around her cheek and neck.

"Hurry," he simply said, quietly and gently… but the tone was of such significant difference to his previous treatment of her that had they not been so preoccupied with their dilemma it would have to have been measured and considered with incredulity, suspicion and intrigue by the both of them. He allowed his hand to fall away from her as she got on with her search.

Moments later, "Here… here they are," Sarah announced with quiet triumph, shoving the two phials practically in his face.

"Put the big one in your pocket… _don't_ let it out of your possession!" he demanded in a harsh whisper, only regretful that he could not safely store it easily in his own robes instead. He virtually snatched the other from her fingers, flicked out the cork and downed the pain-relieving brew hurriedly.

This potion was not ordinarily considered to be adequate or effective in taking away pain caused by such an extensive injury as his, it was more suited to relieving a headache or sore muscles, or even perhaps a sprained ankle, but Severus was not about to quibble about its intents. Any relief he could achieve would be welcomed wholeheartedly at this stage.

He waited no more than a further few moments before he tested his strength and injury again and was pleased to discover that despite still experiencing significant pain, it was not so utterly debilitating anymore. He was able to grit his teeth and push through it to lever himself to a sitting position; perched partially sideways on the front of the seat with his back to the driver's seat, supporting himself on the dash.

He immediately surveyed what he could make out in the darkness beyond the windows… which admittedly was not that much.

"We are likely going to have to make a run for it… and I can attempt to Apparate us out of here. It's not likely to be pleasant, but… in view of the alternative…" he whispered to Sarah, considering the gravity of a probable splinching versus what they would be certain to endure if they were caught.

"Appa- _what_?" his companion queried quietly.

Severus twisted carefully toward the woman, dropping his hands to the seat for support. "Nevermind… just do _precisely_ what you're told, for Merlin's sake!"

"But… we can't get out of the car… it's wedged in. The doors won't open wide enough."

Turning back to the window and upon a closer inspection he realised she was right… they were effectively imprisoned in the Muggle vehicle, unable to escape unless they broke a window or moved the car. And they couldn't operate the car… the engine of the vehicle was unlikely to start again… his spell would likely have worn off long ago now the car had been stationary for quite some time, not to mention the noise the engine would make if by chance it did turn over – the Death Eaters would be on them before they had made it twenty feet. No, they were essentially sitting ducks; relying on luck alone to save them from discovery… it literally made Severus furious.

"Salazar's fucking slut!" he swore softly, his hands curling into tight balls in frustrated anger; wanting nothing more than to drive his fist forcefully into the dashboard.

"If only I had retrieved my damned _wand_!" he whispered harshly, but his anger swiftly morphed into bitter anguish and he huffed out a discouraged breath and grimaced with pain.

He wrapped an arm around his throbbing middle; the effort of working himself up having had physical repercussions. He groaned quietly again and covered his eyes with his free hand. The girl moved beside him, but he chose to ignore the presence of the useless tag-along for the moment and concentrate on wrangling any sort of solution to their predicament from his frazzled and frantic mind.

"Severus…" the woman's whisper interrupted him.

"What!" he snapped in a hiss, wincing when the effort twinged his wound again.

"I did," she said: cryptically in his opinion.

"_Did_ what?" he repeated, this time with a little more care for his injured torso.

"Picked up your w-wand… here… or, I assume this is what you're after anyway."

Severus snapped his head around to her and once again paid the price for moving too hastily; sucking in a quick, hissed breath. He stared at the ebony wand that was now being held up to his face for several seconds before he transferred his focus to the woman offering it in incredulous amazement. For a tiny instant he found himself wanting to kiss her.

After a short huff of dumbfounded relief he remembered himself, and took the proffered wand slowly; as if it might disappear in a mocking puff of smoke if he snatched at it too eagerly. It was only when he had the instrument securely in his fingers and felt its smooth, solid presence that he could accept the incredible turn of fortune as genuine.

"You've had this the whole time?" he queried at a whisper, knowing it was one of the dumbest questions he'd ever uttered. And though he did not actually intend the comment to sound critical, it was easy to hear the underlying accusation behind the words nevertheless.

"I thought you knew… I didn't try to hide it or anything. I thought you realised I'd got it," she awkwardly defended herself, as expected.

"No… look, never mind that for the moment. At least I have some hope of defending us now," he informed her, re-adjusting his grip on the wand until it felt perfectly comfortable in his hand.

He instantly cast a silent disillusionment charm upon the car so it could not be spotted so easily if the Death Eaters were to investigate beneath the tree. And it turned out that it was just in the nick of time when the Death Eater voices, which to this point had remained a faint muffle from somewhere distant behind them, suddenly became louder and clearer; coming from the road just ahead and to their left.

"There are tracks leading through here!" the male voice exclaimed.

"Oh, shit," Sarah hissed in fright.

"Calm yourself… my spell will ensure that if we stay perfectly still and silent we will be essentially invisible, now hush," he explained in an urgent whisper.

He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye and felt her creep close to him until she was virtually pressed up against his back. Once settled, she remained still as instructed. Severus turned his attention to the approaching Death Eater; his eyes straining through the darkness to maintain his only advantage – his knowledge of the enemy's position – with his wand held at the ready.

Severus all but held his breath as the wizard stalked toward the darkened clearing in which the concealed car was parked. As he came nearer the dark man recognised the man as Arian Curtis, a lower ranked Death Eater who was certainly not one of those considered a part of the inner circle.

Under normal circumstances the man was easily outclassed by Snape, but in his current state Severus was vulnerable to the mediocre wizard and he was very aware of that fact. And against _two_ sadistic Death Eaters, well Severus certainly knew he had very little chance; as a result Severus was extremely tense and anxious.

Abruptly the Death Eater stopped; peering carefully at the exact spot the car stood. It seemed to Severus as though the man was starting straight at him and he momentarily did indeed hold his breath. When his lungs began to scream for oxygen he fought against this basic need along with his reflex to blink until his adversary finally turned away. Quickly he took a succession of quiet breaths in case the wizard was to turn his attention back.

"It leads nowhere," the Death Eater yelled out to his partner, "there's nothing here."

Instantly Severus was afflicted by a sharp burning on his inner left arm. He hissed slightly before he could prevent himself, but thankfully the sound was masked by the wizard standing only meters from him outside the car making his own pained gasp. Severus did not clutch at his mark, but watched impassively as the Death Eater clamped a hand around the spot his own brand obviously resided.

Sarah squeezed her hand lightly on his hip; where he only now recognised she had rested it.

"It's okay," she whispered barely audibly right behind his shoulder.

'Is she warning me to remain silent, or trying to offer comfort and support?' he wondered briefly. Either way he felt a little affronted and consequently he had an urge to exert his dominance and authority over her by putting her in her place somehow, but at the same time he felt compelled to make his own reassuring gesture in return, reinforcing her own claim that things were going to be 'okay'. Sarah's presence and reactions to this intense and stressful event was causing a paradox of emotions for Severus. Was he her leader and protector… or was that perhaps her role toward him?

In the end he did neither; he had enough to be going on with as it was without sparing attention to deciphering the margins that determined the 'relationship' between he and Sarah. He recognised it had been an absurd train of thought anyway.

"He calls," the female stated from a distance, verbalising the obvious. "We are to return immediately; Snape is either found already or not to be found at all and our Lord will be anxious to begin. Either way Snape has laid his path… he will not be welcomed back into the fold again."

Severus swallowed thickly and observed the male Death Eater retreat from the car; extremely grateful for the lack of confrontation at this time. He honestly did not have confidence in his ability to come out victorious the way he currently felt.

"But he can still sabotage the attempt. And besides, he was to brew some potion, wasn't he?"

"I was told Alecto is more than up to doing it, we don't need _him_," the woman said with audible derision. "She must be finished by now, hence the call. As for Snape sabotaging; I heard someone say he might have been injured… they found blood. He's probably curled up dying in a ditch somewhere… well, we can only hope anyway. Hurry up, let's go!"

Severus frowned. Just how long had he been unconscious for? He'd have to ask Sarah. If the Dark Lord was already prepared then Severus no longer had time to rally the Order. He'd need to get urgent word to Dumbledore and go directly to Surrey instead and retrieve the boy himself.

He almost groaned at his next thought. 'And his _family_…'

He'd have to face _Petunia_! As if the _boy_ wasn't bad enough!

Not only that, but he'd recently discovered that Sarah was in need of medical attention - and he imagined he himself did too - but this really couldn't wait. The Potter boy was in imminent jeopardy, and Severus had sworn to protect him… for Lily. However, he also believed, in theory at least, of the boy's prophesised potential.

It had been many years since Severus had genuinely believed in the doctrine of the Dark Lord and in the latent years since the wizard's first downfall he'd had a taste of life without the flavour of the turmoil the fiend's campaign. The idea of freedom now held more than a little appeal to him personally.

Consequently he found himself caught between a rock and a hard place.

Severus brought his focus back to the present. The Death Eaters were both now out of sight and a few moments later he heard the sharp crack of Apparition.

"Get this car out of here," he immediately ordered Sarah, twisting carefully in his seat to a hopefully more comfortable position where he could observe the woman.

She was staring at him with toned down incredulousness. "What… they've gone?"

He sighed with visible relief. "Yes."

Sarah nodded, accepting his word without question. She then adjusted herself in her seat and removed her hand from the little red light; reaching for the lever to first adjust her seat to an upright position and then for the steering wheel and car's ignition. The engine fired when Severus flicked his wand and Sarah carefully engaged the gear stick in first gear and set the car in a slow forward motion. They had only moved the vehicle several feet when abruptly the male Death Eater materialised out of the darkness directly ahead of them, brandishing his wand in front of his body menacingly.

Severus instantly realised he had erroneously and foolhardily listened for only _one_ crack of Apparition when there had been _two_ Death Eaters. He mentally kicked himself for his stupidity and lapse in vigilance. He raised his wand for attack…

Sarah shrieked ear-piercingly beside him, and Severus was thrown abruptly backwards in his reclined seat when the Muggle woman suddenly accelerated hard and the car lurched quickly forward.

There was an abrupt flash of green, a sharp scream and a sickening thud a moment later when the vehicle must have ploughed brutally into the wizard in front of them and then Sarah slammed on the brake, sending Severus flying forward again. He could not contain his own cry of pain as he crashed roughly into the dashboard; unable to bring under control the propelling motion in his injured condition. When he came to rest, teetering on the very edge of the seat clutching desperately at his midsection, he groaned deeply, fighting against his renewed shaking and the fresh waves of debilitating agony.

"Oh, shit," Sarah whimpered. "Where is he?" she stressed fretfully, scanning out the windows nearest to her.

"Oh, _fuck_," Severus moaned breathlessly; unable to struggle his way beyond his distress.

When Sarah had braked hard the car's engine had stalled and now she attempted to start it again. However, to her horror, the starter motor failed to even whir. She tried again repeatedly with the same outcome. Whatever the problem with the car was now, it had nothing to do with the lack of fuel.

"Severus… the car won't go. I don't know where he is, _do_ something!" she demanded of him out of sheer panic.

Sarah finally glanced his way and noticed how badly he was suffering. She reached out to him. "Oh, God… I'm sorry. But we've got to go… please, get better… get better."

In the meantime Severus managed to catch his breath a little; he looked up at her. "Get out… come over to me… around the _back_ of the car. Go!"

She hesitated only a moment before nodding her agreement, checking out her window again cautiously before getting set to follow his directions.

Severus raised his wand and softly chanted, "Finite!" effectively ending the Disillusionment Charm upon the car so his Muggle companion might not be so startled or frightened.

Once Sarah had opened the car door and rushed out into the dark, Severus steeled himself with as deep a breath as he could manage, flicked the door handle and shoved his own door open with his boot with a gasp. Sarah's coat was twisted around his legs and he took a moment to shake them free. Painfully he shuffled himself forward until his feet were resting on the ground.

By then Sarah had made it around the car safely, he reached down slightly and flicked her coat up at her. She snatched it out of the air and adorned the garment quickly before assisting him to stand with a steadying hand under his upper arm.

Severus could already tell this was going to be an extremely arduous and trying exercise upon his much weakened body when he had to fight feverishly to resist clutching at his paining middle.

His breaths increased with the strain and he knew that he would only be able to sustain the increased effort for a limited time before he would collapse with exhaustion or keel over in agony.

He took Sarah's hand and keeping the woman close behind him and his wand held aloft, he gingerly crept forward along the side of the car to investigate the fate of the Death Eater Sarah had apparently run down.

Peering cautiously over the corner of the bonnet Severus spied the fallen man. Wordlessly igniting his wand he examined the body where he stood and determined that Arian appeared unconscious at the least.

Leaning against the car for support, he stared for a moment at the prone body contemplating the Muggle woman's callous act of driving the car viciously into the man. He glanced back at Sarah and noted that she wore an expression that clearly revealed her distress and terror. She turned her head away from the carnage in dismay. She probably had not _meant_ to do any such thing, he guessed, looking back at the fallen man.

Severus could see blood down the man's left cheek and his lower half appeared to be wedged beneath the front end of the vehicle, potentially pinned in place. The wizard's wand was lying idly in the frosted grass several inches from the man's outstretched hand.

He tugged lightly on Sarah's hand to bring her up alongside him. She'd just have to get over her squeamishness.

"Fetch the wand," he requested, indicating with a nod toward the instrument, knowing he would be unable to achieve the task himself. He instead kept his own wand trained intently upon the fallen wizard in case it was a ruse as the woman skirted around the body, ensuring she would stay out of reach, to pluck the wand from the ground.

With the wand now definitely out of Arian's reach and Sarah back safely by Severus' side he found the strength to shuffle closer (ignoring Sarah's gasp of apprehension) and crouched down just low enough to check for a pulse at the man's wrist.

"He's still alive… stand back… turn away," he ordered to Sarah as he straightened up again and aimed his wand.

"What!" she cried out in alarm. "You… you're not going to ki- you not going to do _that_ to him, are you?" she stammered, unable to even say the word; clearly horrified at the prospect.

Taking in Sarah's dismayed and appalled expression gave Severus pause… for getting _permanent_ rid of this witness had indeed been his intention. Severus was surprised at her level of intuition. With a short sigh, after taking into consideration his Muggle, apparently innocent companion, he decided to humour her.

"No," he responded succinctly, shaking his head lightly, his expression blank with the exception of the now permanent crease of pain between his eyebrows. He then proceeded to lift his wand and cast a non-verbal spell toward his victim… however, instead of the deadly green glow that would have basked the scene, thin ropes promptly burst from the end of his wand and bound the unconscious man.

He looked back to Sarah, whose features expressed her relief more than adequately, and shuffled gingerly back to her side.

"His companion will be back for him imminently. Do you have the third potion?" he asked, eager to be gone from here.

"Er…" Sarah stammered as she patted down her pockets. "Yeah… yes, it's here," she confirmed.

Severus moved a little away from the car; his support, and consequently he had to work a little harder to remain standing tall. A slight, shuddering breath told of his effort.

"Alright… ah… come here… close," Severus said, raising his arms a little and gesturing for Sarah to move into his now inviting embrace. He figured that his best strategy for Apparating in his poor condition, along with a side-a-long passenger no less, would be to use the woman for support. The twisting required would more than likely prove exceedingly painful and even if the Muggle woman couldn't lend any magical aid or strength, she could assist him physically; allowing him to focus more intently on the all important 'three D's' with the hope of avoiding splinching the both of them.

Sarah eyed him worriedly. "Um, are you okay?" she asked with concern.

He didn't really feel 'okay', but in the context Sarah was probably asking he answered, "Yes," nodding to assure her. "Now, I'm going to Apparate us. It's _magic_… a mode of long-distance travel, don't be alarmed. But… I need you to help me. I have to concentrate intensely for success… but I might have trouble with the pain. Can you support me?" He did not alert her to the potentially unpleasant consequences of _failure_, for obvious reasons.

She was nodding. "Uh… yeah… sure, what do you want me to do?"

"Put your arms around me, hold tight… move with me. And _do not_, under any circumstances, let go… that's all," he explained, briefly pausing to slip his wand securely up his sleeve.

"Yeah, okay," she answered, a little relieved her task seemed quite straightforward, trying not to think about the _Appa_-… well, whatever he'd called the supposed 'magic'. She moved closer and embraced him with one arm circling around his chest, grabbing a handful of thick material in her fist at his back, and hooking her other hand under his armpit and up and back over his shoulder, gripping as tightly as she could, pulling her body close to his.

"That alright?" she queried, looking up at him from her quite miniscule height in comparison to his easy six foot.

The woman pressed firmly up against his injury was incredibly uncomfortable, and he barely restrained a gasp, nodding instead. "It is fine," he said succinctly, knowing that her weight supporting his torso would be more beneficial than detrimental in a few moments.

His own arms closed securely around Sarah's shoulders and he felt her tip her chin downwards and nuzzle her face against his chest. He then took a deep breath in preparation; lowering his own chin down to nestle his lips and nose atop her head amongst her hair.

"Move with me… to my left," he reminded her in a soft mumble before he closed his eyes and determinedly deliberated the bright street in which Potter's house resided. With a quick intake of breath he rapidly turned on the spot, holding the woman tightly against his chest.

They had no way of knowing it, but merely moments after Severus and Sarah's crack of Apparition reverberated in the frigid, still, night air, another loud pop signified the abrupt return of Death Eater, Estelle Flint, closely followed by two comrades.

The position Sarah had chosen wasn't as pleasant as it should have been; wrapped securely in a tall, well-built man's embrace. Her face was nestled into his chest and there was a decidedly strong aroma of coppery tang invading her nostrils which she recognised with dismay as _blood_… and plenty of it. She could feel the cool wetness begin to soak into her own clothes down her front from the moment she hugged her body close to his. The scent and sensation did not sit well with her stomach and Sarah hoped she'd be able to move away sooner rather than later.

She briefly wondered if Severus' wound had started to haemorrhage again after he'd been thrown about so harshly in the car. He had certainly been in sufficient pain to suspect the probability. It belatedly occurred to her that perhaps it may have been a good idea to caution him of what she had been about to do. But with hindsight there was neither the time nor opportunity to give him a warning. And were Sarah to admit it, she would acknowledge that she had hardly formed the idea as a rational thought anyway when she'd slammed her foot down upon the car's accelerator – it had merely been a haphazard combination of pure panic mixed with basal instinct and reflex; a successful outcome of which was alternatively known in some circles as 'sheer dumb luck'.

As Severus began to spin, Sarah sucked in a sharp breath and attempted to go with the flow, automatically tightening her grip around his body.

Without warning she suddenly felt as though she was being squeezed very tightly from all angles, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with his arms wrapped around her. She couldn't draw a breath and immediately thought of the random vision of toothpaste being compressed in a blocked tube. The sudden nothingness that instantly drew in around her and the dark man in her embrace was startling and prominent and… really _weird_. And just when Sarah was beginning to think she would never breathe again and would die like this in this bizarre, barren universe it was almost like she was shot abruptly back into the world as she knew it; with sound and colour invading her senses in a hasty and intense wave, and the all important breath of fresh, cool air rushed mercifully into her lungs.

"Holy shit!" she heard herself mutter, entirely overwhelmed, trying to take in her new surroundings along with a second quick, very welcome breath whilst their spin came to an unsteady halt.

In the same instant the man in her embrace staggered and cried out harshly in pain. Sarah quickly re-assured her footing and tried to hold him upright. She noticed he was virtually crushing her with his tense, tightened grip around her chest, restricting her new heightened joy for her capacity to inflate her lungs.

As Severus faltered once more and slipped further down in Sarah's embrace his face ended up buried in her neck where his hollers gave way to intense grunting, deep moans and haggard breaths. He was leaning heavily on her and Sarah found she was not going to be able to continue to support his increasing weight. After several moments she eventually conceded the struggle and allowed them both to succumb to gravity and drop to their knees.

Remembering her instructions she did not relinquish her hold on him, if anything _tightening_ her grip on the distressed man.

Moments later she was dismayed when she realised he was now seemed to be sobbing quite distraughtly upon her shoulder.

"Shh… it's okay. Severus, take a breath, try to relax," she crooned, trying to calm him. She turned her face slightly and mechanically pressed her lips in a soft, soothing kiss against his cheek next to his ear.

"It's done now, hon." Her right hand automatically reinforced the gesture by rubbing softly across his shoulder.

Sarah assumed he was hurting intensely and had finally been overcome by the pain. Quite frankly she was astounded and impressed at how well he had coped so far considering the severity of his injury. But now it had become too much and Sarah began to question in her mind what she ought to do for him.

Looking up she quickly scouted the area, determining they were actually kneeling in the middle of the road in what looked to be a very stereotypically suburban street.

Severus had surprisingly fallen silent except for his continued ragged breathing. She brought a hand to his the back of his head, anxious for him.

"Severus?" she queried.

"Are you unharmed?" he whispered unexpectedly, seeming strangely concerned.

Sarah froze momentarily in astonishment. She leaned slightly back from him so she could try to look at his face. "I'm fine… don't worry about me," she reassured him, putting her own concerns far down on their list of priorities for the moment.

He lifted his head; he truly looked awful. He was pale to the point of almost being described as 'white' with profound grey circles shadowing his already dark eyes and deep set creases of pain emphasising an image of vulnerability. He drew in a breath that Sarah could easily see took an increased effort.

"There are potentially horrific side-effects should I have failed to focus effectively," he offered as explanation, Sarah assumed. "You are unaffected, I presume?"

He closed his eyes for a few moments with a soft moan, signifying fatigue and just how much of a toll the past few minutes had taken upon his already weakened body and mind.

Concerned about the potential side-effects Severus had just now enlightened her of, Sarah replied. "Er… I think so. How should I tell?" she said, unsure. She looked down upon herself looking vaguely for some evidence to the contrary.

He sighed around a very soft chuckle. "Oh, you would _know_, trust me," he assured her, his amusement apparent despite his weariness.

Sarah smiled at him gently, more than glad to see he was feeling well enough to show amusement for anything. But quickly she became serious once more as she witnessed him scan the area around them.

"Are we still in danger?"

His sigh this time was more in relief. "Not immediate I would suggest; though we should not linger here."

"Where are we?" Sarah asked, glancing around once more.

"Surrey," he answered succinctly. "We need to visit number four," he added equally as obscurely.

"Number four?" Sarah queried, eyebrows raised, immediately identifying the number six upon the nearest letterbox to her left. "Why?"


	5. Chapter 5  Dudders and Dursleys

**_Well... the journey so far has been quite emotional and trying... but it's not over just yet; Severus will need to stay strong just a little longer. Now Severus and his 'assistant' are about to enter number four. What will any of the occupants have to say about the greasy, dark, terse man turning up in the dead of night on their doorstep?_**

**_Eternal thanks for those who have reviewed and alerted this fic. I'd love to hear from you again. And those who have only read... do say hello and tell me what you think._**

_**Enjoy... **_

**Chapter 5** – _Dudders and Dursleys_

Severus was flagging once more and answered Sarah's infernal questioning with his usual irritation. "Just because!" he snapped bluntly, wholly unprepared and unwilling to explain the entire ruddy mess to Sarah right now. "Come," he added before attempting to push to his feet. He ignored her indignant reaction.

He hurt quite a bit and in the end he had to concede and accept assistance from Sarah to straighten entirely; gasping, groaning and hissing breaths of discomfort despite his attempts to remain stoic. No matter how much he wanted to he could not succumb to the injury and hide until help came – but Merlin it was testing his limits.

In the soft glow of the streetlamps he could see the dark, gory stains of what he assumed must be his own blood soaked into the front of Sarah's light coloured garments. A quick feel of the fabric covering his own chest confirmed the theory; the material was saturated with a cool, wet, sticky substance.

"Wait," he said, fumbling up his sleeve for his wand. He soon directed the instrument at his chest and quietly chanted, "_Teregeo_."

The wand siphoned off a great deal of the fluid, but it seemed that in one patch in particular the barely visible, but discernable stain blossomed slowly back again. He did not attempt the charm again, the exercise was likely fruitless; he was evidently still bleeding quite heavily. Severus swallowed, immediately contemplating how long it would take before the loss negated the brew he had consumed at the rate the wound was currently weeping.

Severus then aimed the wand toward Sarah. She stiffened visibly and gasped softly.

"Be still," he commanded, "this will not harm you."

He again intoned the charm and divested the woman's clothes of the evidence of his crisis. He couldn't very well enter Petunia Dursley's abode with himself and his companion covered from top to toe in bright red blood! From what he remembered of the fussy woman it was highly probable she would have a fit over daring to soil her home.

Wand still in hand, he and Sarah headed toward the house two doors down the street, but not before Severus noticed the lower floor curtains of number six twitching tellingly in the low light. However, he decided it was rather unlikely that he and Sarah would go completely unnoticed considering the commotion he had made upon their abrupt arrival. It was unfortunate, but he was just glad to have arrived whole and hollering, rather than the very grim alternative.

He grimaced, a supporting arm wrapped around his middle, as he took short, tentative steps with Sarah keeping cautiously close to his side until they reached the garden path that led to Potter's front door. Severus paused a moment, leaning against the gate post for support. He swiftly waved off Sarah's sudden concern to conjure his patronus; instantly feeling the uplifting awe he always did when invoking the very personal, sentimental silvery doe. He hastily imbibed the shining creature with a message to Dumbledore informing of the Dark Lord's imminent attempt to break through Potter's wards, accompanied by a request for assistance at the boy's home to evacuate, and sent it on its way with a further wave of his wand.

Beside him Sarah was gaping in awe. It took her a few moments to close her mouth and find her voice.

"I take it that _this_ is 'Potter's' home. And that you are the spy… _Snape_? … from the… well, what those other two were saying," she confirmed, indicating with a quick gesture toward the house and then back up the street in the direction they had come. "And _this_," she added, patting the pocket of her jeans where she'd stored the third phial, "it's the potion you were supposed to supply, isn't it?"

Severus looked at her, pleasantly surprised at her astuteness. He hadn't realised she'd actually been listening through her fear whilst they were back in the car.

He nodded, "Yes."

"So… what's a _Muggle_?" she asked, her tone suggesting she already suspected the answer but was confirming the notion.

Severus huffed. He was loathe to linger on the street any longer so he began moving toward the door again as he answered. He gestured for Sarah to follow him.

"Those without magic… _you_," he enlightened concisely.

"Oh," she said, the response subdued with disheartened comprehension. She remained silent until he had reached the door and rapped sharply upon it with his knuckles.

"Stay behind me… and remain silent," he ordered Sarah as a precaution. He did not see her irate, questioning frown behind his back.

He had no idea what the actual time was, but suspected somewhere close to midnight; as he needed to rap forcefully two more times before he heard movement from within. A light just inside the door was abruptly switched on before the door was yanked open and Severus was confronted by a very irate, whale of man.

"What the bleeding hell do you want at this time of night!" the man snapped, a deep scowl set on his fat face that was turning a darker shade of purple by the second.

Severus raised an eyebrow and sneered at the irony.

"Dursley, I presume," he drawled. He'd never actually had the (dubious) pleasure of meeting the man previously.

The Muggle squinted and took a good look at the visitor on his doorstep. An alarmed expression of realisation swept across his features before he once again scowled deeply and opened his mouth to protest.

Severus cut him off before he could begin. He raised his wand sharply and held it in the fat man's face; sneering menacingly himself.

"It would be to your and your family's ultimate benefit to keep your mouth shut and listen intently," he advised in a low, intimidating tone.

The man flinched violently at appearance of the wand shoved into his face and took a cautious step backwards. Severus found it intriguing that the man was so wary of the instrument.

'What _has_ the boy been up to during his summers since beginning at Hogwarts?' he wondered before filing away his curiosity for another time.

Behind him, Sarah too gasped at the aggressive employ of the wand.

"Move aside," he ordered Potter's uncle, and once the man had retreated a few more paces he led Sarah over the threshold into the house. Severus noticed the man make a face of revulsion as they moved into the better light.

Sarah pushed the door closed most of the way behind her to keep the cold from invading the warmer house. They both moved to the wall opposite the staircase where Severus could take advantage of the support; Sarah tucked herself against his side. He discreetly leaned against the smooth surface with a silent sigh of relief. Even his legs felt weakened now and he had to brace himself to remain standing. He again wrapped his arm around his paining middle.

Feeling as dreadful as he did Severus decided immediately that he would only explain his presence once.

"Call down Potter and the rest of your family," he insisted firmly.

"I'll get the boy, but I think we can leave my wife out of this," Dursley dared to suggest. "She gets most upset when you lot force yourselves into our lives," he added scornfully.

"Of that I have no doubt," Severus countered quickly, "however today neither you nor your _wife_ has the option. Call them all down or I'll fetch them myself," he threatened, rolling his wand in his hand in a suggestively menacing manner.

Dursley got the message instantly, reluctantly and somewhat hesitantly turning his back on his intruders to holler up the stairs.

"Harry! Petunia! You need to come downstairs!"

Severus waited quite impatiently for several moments, trying to get a fix on what was missing from or wrong with the man's summons while he almost perceptibly felt his own strength fading. Sarah moved slightly against him where he felt rather than saw her lower her hand down to her abdomen and make a small sound of discomfort. Her action reminded him that he was not the only one with an injury that required urgent attention.

Lily sister was the first to arrive at the top of the landing wrapped in a flowery dressing gown.

"What is it? What's wrong… is it Duddykins? Tell me, Vernon," she demanded in the shrill voice Severus could hardly forget. She'd not grown out of it apparently. The woman raced down the stairs barely aware of their 'guests' until she reached the bottom. She looked up and finally noticed the pair against the opposite wall. Her gaze raked judgementally over the strange woman, huddled close to her companion, before her eyes passed over to survey Severus. Recognition came within moments and the result was brutal on her features.

"You!" she snarled bitterly, her loathing deeply evident in her tone. "What are you doing in my house?"

Vernon instantly shot his regard to his spouse, startled at his wife's apparent familiarity with the intruders.

"A pleasure as always, Mrs _Dursley_," Severus drawled disdainfully, his own abhorrence for his childhood antagonist bristling instantly.

Petunia barely paused to listen to Severus reply. "And what on earth are you both covered in?" she screeched out, her disgust for the 'filth' besmirching her pristine home unmistakable.

Severus looked down upon himself quickly and only now discovered the true extent of the mess his loss had made upon his skin. Sarah was mimicking his action next to him. Both their hands were coated with blood in various stages of drying, extending up the sleeves of their clothes, and with a quick glance at his Muggle companion Severus noticed the large smear of brownish red smudged across her cheek and neck; the areas Severus had missed with his siphoning charm.

"Oh God," Sarah remarked, a little appalled herself. She had not realised the both of them looked so wretched. She turned to Severus, an expression of worried dismay shaping her features.

Harry Potter, dressed in overly large, ratty pyjamas, chose that moment to trot quickly down the stairs. When he spotted the visitors he stopped abruptly; shock and inquisitiveness warred for precedence upon his face.

"Professor Snape… w-what are you doing here?" he asked a little hesitantly, blinking oddly as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. Sarah glanced back at him quickly, surprise and curiosity moulding her features.

"Potter, fetch your belongings – the essential ones only – the wards upon this home are about to be breached by the Dark Lord. You are to evacuate," he ordered. "You two as well," he added nodding in the Dursley pairs directions. As much as it would amuse and satisfy him to leave _Petunia_ to the mercy of the Death Eaters, Dumbledore would have his head if he did.

"What!" the teenager exclaimed in alarm. "How?"

"Never mind that now; do as you are asked!" Severus demanded tersely, his patience wearing infinitely thin.

Potter's expression morphed gradually into one of mistrust; clearly his feelings for the man in front of him finally out-shadowed the astonishment of one of his Hogwarts professors turning up on his doorstep in the middle of summer.

"I don't think I should just go with _you_-"

"You _should_ and you _will_… I am in no mood to play games with you, Potter. This residence is no longer safe and I have not the luxury of time to provide the evidence to convince you! But if you should desire to ask _them_ when they come…?" Severus snapped curtly, his eyes narrowing to pinpoints in his frustration.

The teenager, after wavering for a moment and gauging the seriousness of the intimidating wizard in front of him, finally heeded his Professor's tone and scooted quickly back up the stairs; presumably to his bedroom.

"Now see here-" Vernon Dursley began.

Severus audibly growled, thrusting the wand back in the man's face.

"But you can't just evict us from our _home_!" the fat Muggle persisted, although wary of the rod now directed between his eyes.

"Didn't you _hear_ me?" Severus bit out, getting supremely frustrated with the ungrateful imbecile in front of him. "You will be lucky to walk out of here with your lives when they come, let alone this house!" he growled pointedly.

He faltered a little as the exertion of his frustration aggravated his injury. His wand hand began to shake with visible tremors and his breathing became shallow and laboured. Sweat droplets had formed on his brow and the first of them had finally swelled enough to trickle quickly down his temple.

Sarah clutched at him, offering him physical support and bracing encouragement. But Merlin it was hard work keeping his knees from buckling beneath him.

And neither of the two Dursleys had moved an inch to follow his directions.

Severus could see Petunia's husband observing him shrewdly; and if he hadn't yet worked out how weakened the wizard in front of him was, and therefore how much of an advantage he could seize, he soon would. Severus decided he ought to spur the pair into action before the oaf made a move. He gathered his remaining strength and pushed Sarah smoothly away from himself; advancing on the arrogant, ignorant Muggles.

He came to within two feet of Vernon Dursley, leaned in and hissed menacingly in his face. "You have no idea what I am capable of… and I am rapidly coming to the end of my patience," he threatened ominously in his infamous, low, waspish tone. Petunia rapidly moved behind her husband, fearfully cringing in dreaded anticipation – for she was well versed on what _wizards_ were capable of, unlike her husband.

"Severus," Sarah said quietly, stepping up to him again and trying to calm him; feeling very apprehensive about the whole scene playing out in front of her.

Dursley raised his chin a little in defiance, evidently not as intimidated as Severus had hoped he would be. Instantly infuriated and frustrated, Severus promptly lost his temper and ultimately his usual tight control.

"MOVE!" he shouted, jabbing his wand into the man's fat neck and finally the arrogant Muggle responded with the appropriate fear; his eyes opening wide in alarm.

Suddenly behind him the front door was flung violently open and a large body careered through it and crashed into Sarah, knocking her flying for the second time this evening where she collided harshly with the wall behind her. She crumpled to the ground with a yelp, cradling her head where it had impacted with the hard surface, moaning in distress.

Severus had spun immediately to face their attacker, but his injury had affected his usual lightning reflexes. He was unable to halt the intruder before he had barged through and shouldered his female, Muggle companion brutally out of the way. With a supreme effort Severus only managed to fire off a non-verbal stunner in time to protect himself; causing the fat body to be blasted backwards and dropped in a heap to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

In the mean time, however, Petunia had started shrieking ear-piercingly and screeching nonsense hysterically behind him. Something about '_dudders_' Severus had thought he'd heard amongst the din.

And just after that he was grabbed roughly by the shoulder, swung back around and punched viciously in the stomach by the very beefy Vernon Dursley, dropping _him_ smartly to his knees where he doubled over in absolute agony.

The holler that tore from his throat was unearthly. The pain exploded keenly at the impact site and then blossomed intensely across his belly and up his chest. He could barely breathe or think and before he knew it he was retching violently onto the floor in front of him exacerbating the excruciating ordeal.

The intense commotion around him, consisting of shrieking, yelling and crying, was but background noise once he finished vomiting and he fell slowly to his side and curled on the floor, both arms clutched desperately around his stinging and throbbing middle, groaning wretchedly.

Although he barely registered the fact, his eyes identified the Dursley couple huddled upon the stairs with his young, male attacker smothered in their embrace. Somewhere in the back of his mind he become conscious of the detail that this fat, male teen was the missing part of the equation he'd sought to identify when Potter's uncle had called down his family: he was the ghastly couple's _son_, Potter's cousin.

Potter himself was now standing just to Severus' right, wand in hand and looking down upon the lot of them, having returned from his task of retrieving his belongings; shock and disbelief plastered across his features. He appeared to not know who to help or what to do first. After a moment he took a step toward the fallen wizard and knelt next to him.

Severus groaned deeply as he abruptly felt himself yanked suddenly backwards several inches and the Muggle woman swiftly clamoured over his hips, brazenly shoving the young wizard away with one hand.

"NO!" Severus heard her snarl, the sound echoing in his head, before she situated herself protectively between him and the boy.

'She's fierce,' he noted vaguely, dragging in a painful, ragged breath. The odd thought seemed not to fit neatly with the rest of his awareness, so he let it pass after a slow blink.

His eyes all of a sudden felt oddly heavy and his head began to spin thickly until the world was an indistinct, messy blur… before he rapidly descended into blackness.

Sarah leaned immediately over Severus; sweeping the black hair that had fallen into his face back with her hand.

"Severus?" she said, sobbing heaving breaths.

"I just want to help," the teenage boy tried to convince her gently beside her. "I won't hurt him," he insisted, but she did not let him come any nearer.

Getting no response from the injured man Sarah began to panic and she suddenly couldn't take any more upheaval tonight.

Her body shook and her heart was beating almost out of her chest. Her head pounded and her abdomen was aching constantly now. She didn't know where she was, what she was really even here for or what to do now her companion, whom she hardly knew anyway, was incapacitated with apparently hostile individuals surrounding them; who all incidentally seemed quite aware and comfortable with the notion of _magic_ and _wands_!

She began to cry in earnest, unable to stem the stream of fear, insecurity and misery that flooded out of her with her tears. She hunched further forward over Severus, hiding her face in the space between his neck and shoulder, consumed with her misery. Things had unexpectedly gone from bad to very much worse… and these were the people Sarah had learned the now unconscious man had been trying to warn of impending danger!

What in the world had she gotten herself mixed up with?

Harry sat dumbstruck behind the woman, watching this reasonably attractive, possibly _Muggle_ lady cry buckets over his greasy, ugly, terse, unreasonable and all round arse wipe of a Potions Master.

'To what planet have I accidently Apparated myself!' he wondered disbelievingly.

After a moment, realising that this woman was actually too distraught to actually _do_ anything for the unconscious and evidently unwell wizard (and knowing the man _was_ an Order member and suspecting Dumbledore would be rather upset with him if he didn't at least try) Harry slipped his wand into his rear pocket and attempted again to get the disturbed woman's permission to help.

"I won't hurt him, I promise… he's my teacher," he assured her. Harry deliberately did not mention that he wasn't a very well liked teacher, for obvious reasons. The information seemed to make a difference as he observed that the woman, despite her weeping, appeared to take on board the knowledge.

"Move over a bit," he suggested, giving her a small nudge on her side with his elbow. This time she did as instructed and raised her head enough to shuffle down Snape's body a couple of feet, still sobbing heartily.

Once she had moved Harry could see the small blossoming puddle of bright red blood pooling slowly on the floor immediately below the dark man's stomach.

"What the…?" he began, aghast; moving forward and touching the liquid lightly with his fingers to ascertain that it was in fact blood.

"What's this?" he asked the woman, forgetting momentarily that he was unlikely to get a response.

Without waiting for an answer he turned to his Uncle still sitting upon the staircase with his wife and son; indignant fury over his son's assault building in the man as time passed.

"Uncle Vernon… you didn't use a knife, did you?" he asked incredulously.

"What!" the beefy man snapped, "Of course bleeding not… where would I have gotten one from, you ruddy twit?"

"Well, it's just that Professor Snape is… well, bleeding; and a _lot_ by the looks. Why's he bleeding?"

"How the bloody hell should I know? He must have already been like that… you'll not be blaming _me_ for that… the stuff's all over him," Vernon snapped, demonstrating the point by holding up his own fist that still bore a gruesome red stain. Uncle Vernon began to rub at it, mildly repulsed.

"It's typical of your lot to dump _more_ problems on our doorstep," Harry's fat uncle proceeded to gripe further in an annoyed mutter.

Harry decided to stop questioning his Uncle in case the man suddenly decided that _everything_ was suddenly specifically _Harry's_ fault – as he'd done many times before when things hadn't gone to plan, and instead he turned back to the strange woman who had now quieted some.

"Do you know how this happened?" he asked

She nodded. Harry blinked, waiting for her to go on… but she didn't. She looked terrified and unsure, but something about her demeanour suggested she knew more than was first apparent.

"Who are you?" he asked. "And why are you with Snape? You _are_ a Muggle, right?"

Sarah sniffed loudly, trying to pull herself together. She nodded again. "Yes… I think so… I mean, I can't do magic. Is that what you're asking?"

Harry nodded in confirmation. She nodded also and continued.

"I'm nobody… well, no-one you would know anyway. Even he doesn't _know_ me. Severus kind of collected me up along the way," she explained. "We sort of accidentally collided with one another… and then soon after that he was hit with some red streak of… of… I don't know what it was. I didn't have any choice but escape with him," she admitted, knowing the explanation hardly explained much at all. The tears that Sarah had so recently had pulled to a halt threatened to resume; she took a shuddering breath.

Harry listened closely as the woman carried on.

"He's hurt severely… he's cut open all down his chest and stomach," she said, gesturing as example to her own front, "… it's really bad; it has been bleeding a lot. I tried to help… he needs a doctor, but he insisted we come here first."

She paused and Harry frowned with puzzlement and his questioning expression virtually implored her to continue.

"Like he said to you, I heard him say that this… this… _Lord_ person was coming here. He made this… silver, shining deer… uh, it was a _doe_, actually," Sarah corrected herself quite needlessly, "… and he made it appear with his wand, then he seemed to send her off somewhere with a message for help."

Harry was practically gaping at her; incredulous that, according to this woman's testament, this man, his teacher, who had proven repeatedly over the years just how vehemently he hated him, would risk his life to come and warn Harry of impending danger; and especially when he was already evidently injured quite badly.

He shook his head in disbelief and turned his attention back to the prone, insentient wizard. After another moment of stunned staring, Harry leaned closer to the man; reaching a nervous hand toward the wizard's shoulder.

"Sir?" he asked timidly, giving the shoulder a small shake. To Harry it was like poking a sleeping tiger, and he was extremely reluctant to be more forceful. The man did not respond at all, and Harry watched him closely for a while; thinking for a moment about what he should do.

"Well, he's breathing at least," he stated aloud, for his own sake along with his teacher's Muggle companion's. "He doesn't look good though."

Harry suddenly remembered why the surly wizard was here and glanced up at the still open front door. He leapt to his feet, and after a quick glimpse outside into the blessedly vacant street, he swiftly closed the barrier and flicked the lock across. He knew he'd only created the illusion of safety for Wizards generally had no problem breaking into a house locked only by Muggle methods. But still, they would have to take a moment to achieve it, and that moment could make all the difference between getting hurt or caught as opposed to making an escape.

It made a world of difference to how he felt and therefore how well he could think.

He turned back toward Snape and noticed the Muggle woman take up the dark Professor's fallen wand. He looked around at all the people gathered in the small hallway and realised that this situation was practically as dire as before Snape had arrived; the only difference now being that Harry _knew_ it was so.

Without the adult Wizard conscious, there was not a lot that could be achieved. Harry was still underage and even he could admit woefully lacking in sufficient Wizarding skills and knowledge to get all of them to safety. He needed help… but he virtually had no instant way to request it from the Order or his friends.

He was just considering trying to reach Hermione on the telephone when he recalled that Snape had apparently sent off his patronus to someone for help. Well, the woman had described a silvery, shining _doe_ that remarkably fit the description of Harry's own patronus, _Prongs_, anyway.

'Curious?' he thought, before dismissing the examination of the detail for a more appropriate time.

He scrambled to the woman's side. "Er… what's your name?" he asked, realising the detail would be handy to know.

"Sarah," she answered.

"Sarah… um, you said Snape sent off a message to someone. Who was it, can you remember?"

The woman was silent for a few moments, evidently trying to recall what she had heard. "Um… Dumble… er, Dumbla… something like that, I think," she offered.

"Dumbledore?" Harry confirmed.

"Yeah… that's it,' Sarah replied, nodding.

Harry nodded and then went quiet and thoughtful; wondering if he ought to just sit pretty and wait for more help to arrive. What else could he do, anyway… there were just too many Muggles to evacuate for one young wizard who was barely proficient enough to Apparate himself with confidence he wouldn't splinch himself, let alone _licenced_ and skilful enough to 'side-along'.

He almost laughed out loud when he considered whether his decidedly magic hating Aunt, Uncle and Cousin would even let him attempt it with _them_ as metaphorical guinea pigs.

'Is it even possible with _Muggles_?' Harry wondered further…

"You're one like him, aren't you?" a female voice cut into his musings.

Harry was initially perplexed by Sarah's question, but soon realised she was asking if he too was a Wizard like Snape.

"Um, yeah," he responded softly, idly curious as to how much the Muggle woman had learned from the apparent short amount of time since colliding with the dark, intimidating Potions Master.

"But I'm underage… I'm not supposed to do magic outside of school," he offered automatically, not really sure afterwards whether he ought to have.

"Oh," she said back, surprise and a smidge of disappointment in her tone. "But _they're_ not," she added in a whisper, indicating with a slight tilt of her toward the Dursleys, still molly-coddling their son upon the staircase.

Harry shook his head, "Uh, uh," he confirmed in a hushed tone in return.

Two things suddenly happened simultaneously, throwing the house back into panicked chaos.

From down the road outside on the street a succession of loud banging noises, like cars backfiring, disrupted the evening silence. Sarah immediately took notice, scrambling in panic back over Snape's hip and shaking him roughly and calling his name trying to wake him. Harry immediately whipped his wand from his pocket and stood facing the door; intensely alert.

And, out of the blue a large barn owl rapidly swished into the hallway from the back of the house and dropped an official looking envelope made from thick parchment onto the floor at Harry's feet, causing Petunia to both screech in disgust and dismay and then scream in terror as the startled bird flapped in alarm over her head before locating the way back out of the frightening house. Sarah too reeled back with a squeak or fear at the bizarre behaviour of the animal when it swooped low past her.

Harry ignored the Ministry letter - no doubt it was another erroneous advice regarding the illegal use of magic in front of a Muggle by an underage wizard - and began to step back from the door. He joined Sarah at Snape's head just as the man groaned; hopefully regaining consciousness.

The woman leaned back over him. "Open your eyes… wake up," she pleaded to the injured wizard. Harry added to her plea with a silent wish of his own that he not be left to deal with this on his own.

A small noise not far outside the door had both Sarah and Harry draw in a sharp breath.

"Severus… they're here!" Sarah cried, her voice quiet, yet overwrought; the panic in her tone overwhelming and unnervingly infectious to everyone present in the crowded, small hallway.


	6. Chapter 6  The Worst Yet to Come

_**Good Lord... "They're here!" Now what?**_

_**Let's see if Severus will wake up and help with the disaster... or whether Harry can cope and get them all to safety.**_

_**Poor Sarah, she's really been dropped right in the middle of this awful, frightening drama... and her own issues are building...**_

_**Read on to find out the how it all plays out...**_

_**Thanks for the reviews, I have a few left to answer, I'll hopefully get to those in the next few days. Until then... enjoy!**_

_**:D**_

**Chapter 6** – _The Worst Yet to Come_

The harshest pain tore across Severus' torso as he wakened, and in that moment he dearly wanted to sink back into the oblivion from which he was rising.

A groan crept up from the back of his throat and exited his mouth without any permission or intent from him.

"Open your eyes… wake up," he heard a female voice echo above him. The tone sounded anxious and Severus began summoning his strength to respond.

"Severus… they're here!" the voice spoke again. The words meant nothing to him yet, but this time panic and fear were practically palpable; seeping into own his chest and thrumming with urgency. He blinked and opened his eyes, focusing on the Muggle woman's face hovering above him.

"Uncle Vernon… take Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the living room," ordered the Potter teen from somewhere higher, and promptly the three sets of feet pounded past Severus' head; a shrill voice, tainted with fear, was squawking on about something.

Sarah pushed her arms under Severus' shoulders and hefted him up a little; gently resting his head in her lap. He grimaced as the movement exacerbated his pain. In turn he felt her fingers smooth over his temple and up past his hairline in what seemed to be a gesture of apology or soothing; he couldn't be sure.

"They're outside the door… what should we do?" Sarah whispered to urgently him, and he was finally able to comprehend what she had been saying. With a huge endeavour of will power he isolated his suffering to a place in the back of his mind; he needed to focus on other things now. _They _were here…

After a quick tap of the area of floor near his hands and coming up with nothing, he asked a little shakily, "Where's my wand?"

"I have it… here," she said, delivering the instrument into his hand promptly.

He struggled to get himself into a sitting position quickly, but only managed to achieve a sort of half way pose before there was a sharp rap upon the door.

Everybody froze. And no-body dared answer the knocking at the door.

"Where is the boy?" Severus demanded quietly, staring at the door.

"Harry?" Sarah queried, scrambling to her knees now that Severus was no longer across her lap. "He's…-"

"I'm here," Potter himself finished, from just behind Sarah, but there was no time to put into action any further plan Severus may have been formulating.

The hall lights flickered ominously for a moment before winking out for good.

"Go, Potter!" Severus barked sharply; resolutely.

But before anyone had a chance to react, the front door abruptly burst open on its hinges and crashed against the wall; and in the doorway stood the dark silhouette of an obviously powerful wizard, his stance set with fury and determination; wand held aloft.

All three that were in the hallway fell back from the doorway several inches with a gasp of horror and dread; Severus rolling to face toward Sarah slightly protectively in an attempt to shield his Muggle companion.

Sarah shrieked in fright and Severus and Harry both thrust their wands towards the intruder, but neither were able to cast any magic before their weapons were wrenched from their hands and flew in an arc to land in the outstretched hands of the dark intruder.

A sharp glow, invoked from the intruder's wand, burst instantly into existence, and the odd trio in the hall shielded their vision involuntarily. When their eyes became more accustomed to the bright light all three lowered their arms simultaneously, and they, incredibly, found themselves gaping into the aged face of…

Albus Dumbledore!

As both Harry and Severus recognised the wizard standing in the doorway, they both made identical sounds of relief. Severus collapsed to his side, curling on himself facing Sarah, succumbing to the fatigue and pain the recent efforts had exacerbated.

Sarah, having no clue as to the identity of the bearded, crazed looking, old man, remained quivering and cringing between the two younger wizards; begging and praying she would wake up from this nightmare – and soon!

She drew her leg up and abruptly felt the poke in her ribs from the wand she had collected from the ground that had belonged to the Death Eater back under the tree. In a moment of panicked madness she thrust her hand into the opening of her coat, dragged the instrument from her inner pocket at held it out rather awkwardly toward the frightening, bearded man who had just been flanked by three other tall, equally scary men also brandishing their wands.

"Stay back!" she cried out, her whole arm shaking with fear.

Severus tilted his head to look at Sarah, wondering what she thought she was trying to achieve. He was surprised to see the foreign wand, he'd not even considered what the woman had done with it after she'd retrieved it from the frigid grass, but even more incredible was that she thought she would be able to intimidate _anyone_ with it. She was only a _Muggle_… and obviously so!

"Sarah," he said, but his voice was so quiet with fatigue he could barely be heard by the panicked woman. He exhaled a sighed moan as the effort cost him quite acutely.

Harry had retreated into the sitting room to reassure his relatives that the intruders were actually friendly; just in case his uncle tried to foolishly attack again. He still wasn't sure how exactly the man had managed to best his teacher, one of the most formidable wizards he knew.

Severus sensed, rather than saw, Albus Dumbledore approach behind him, and watched as his hand reached out and wrapped itself around Sarah's, the Death Eater wand encased in both.

"Calm down," he said, his tone soothing and reassuring. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am no threat to you or any other here."

Sarah gasped out a breath, distress and relief at the man's statement warring to dominate her reaction.

'Dumbledore? Dumbledore… was that… was that the name Severus had said?' she thought wildly.

Severus tried again. "Sarah… it's fine," he said softly, landing a hand on her bent leg, finally gaining her attention. "It's okay."

Dumbledore retracted his hand, leaving the wand in the Muggle's grasp. She sat there stunned, the wand still held aloft, just staring at the four men who had invaded the home so swiftly. Her head was spinning and she concentrated simply on taking deep, even breaths as she watched the scene in front of her.

Two of the men swept past her into the sitting room. "Harry? Are you alright?" she heard one ask in a low voice.

"Yeah… yes, Remus, I'm fine. We all are. Well… except Snape," Harry replied promptly.

Sarah turned her attention back to the older, bearded wizard who was now reaching over Severus in front of her.

"How are you feeling, my boy? You seem to have made quite a mess of yourself," the old man said, indicating vaguely to the bloodstains gruesomely and liberally painting the scene and almost everybody in it.

"Smashing, Headmaster," Severus responded sarcastically as he gasped softly again. He tilted his head slightly toward Sarah again and his eyes caught a sight that made his stomach clench with wretchedness. With her legs at that angle Severus could easily see the small stain of red that had collected on her jeans between her thighs. He felt it was too great a wish to hope the woman had merely sat in some of his loss that had spilled over the floor. Not with what he knew about Sarah' concerns, anyway.

"I'm fine… but you need to get Sarah to a healer quickly," he said immediately.

The Headmaster's eye flicked up to Severus' Muggle companion. "Sarah? You're hurt?"

Still stunned, Sarah was hard pressed to respond, but at Severus' insisting that he was fine, she was able to gather her wits enough merely out of incredulity.

"He's not fine… he badly needs to see a doctor, he's not well," she stated firmly, quite astounded that the dark man would say anything but; Sarah was sure he'd come quite close to dying tonight.

"No, Sarah-" Snape insisted, trying to push himself up a little, but he was pulled up short by the sudden feeling of nausea and dizziness that swept over him. He groaned and slumped back to the floor as a shudder rippled through his frame. He really wanted to convey how serious Sarah's situation was, but these exacerbating symptoms rendered him unable to think, let alone act on her behalf.

Assessing the woman quickly, Dumbledore evidently determined she was not urgently in need of medical attention despite Snape's claim, and especially as she'd virtually ignored his question to insist on the magnitude of Severus' frailty. He turned back to the more obviously wounded and ill of the two and placed a palm across the prone man's forehead.

"You're burning, Severus, I have to get you to Poppy," he said.

"Poppy…?" Severus muttered, quite out of it. "Sarah…" he added simply.

Dumbledore looked up quizzically at the Muggle woman. "I had assumed you were one of Harry's Muggle neighbours of sorts… but it seems Severus has a desire for you to accompany him. Is that also your wish?"

Sarah swallowed and nodded. She definitely didn't want to be grouped with the other 'Muggles' in this household, anyway, which is what the old man seemed to be hinting at.

A clear look of intrigue and question shaped the man's aged features, but he merely nodded his agreement, apparently reserving his curiosity for another time.

"Arthur?" he then called and a red-haired man appeared hastily at his side.

"Yes, Albus?"

"Please deliver Severus safely to Madam Pomfrey at Hogwarts… as quickly as you can," he requested directly. "I shall send word ahead for her to expect you both."

"Yes, of course," the red-head acknowledged before replacing himself at Severus' side as the old man moved away.

Dumbledore then approached Sarah and crouched at her side. "Come, my dear," he coaxed kindly, allowing her a minute to place the wand back within her coat before gently helping her to her feet.

Suddenly a woman with bright pink hair rushed in through the open door with a sense of urgency. Sarah cringed close to the old man at the appearance of the strange woman; unconsciously and incredibly having come to trust and feel safe with him even though she's only met him barely minutes ago.

He patted her arm soothingly, turning to face the young Auror and Order member questioningly.

"Something doesn't feel right out there," the young, pink-haired witch blurted hurriedly. "I think we should leave as quickly as possible."

Dumbledore merely nodded, but he did not outwardly show any increased aura of urgency because of it.

"Nymphadora, please accompany Sarah here to Hogwarts with Arthur and Severus… I shall be along shortly after with Harry." The young witch immediately came forward and took Sarah gently by the arm and led her a few paces closer to her; waiting for the red-headed man to give the word he and their injured comrade were ready.

"Remus, you and Kingsley escort Harry's relatives over to Arabella's. Stay with them and keep everyone inside until I get word to you regarding the next move," the bearded wizard continued, facing toward the sitting room and addressing the two wizards standing in the doorway.

Then Dumbledore turned on the spot abruptly. "Alastor, will you go ahead to Hogwarts to make sure the area is secure?"

A deep grunt of agreement sounded from almost behind Sarah.

Sarah swiftly turned her head to see the man called Alastor, who had appeared unnoticed at the open door; she squeaked in fright and buried her face in her new chaperone's embrace as his overly scarred face and bizarre rolling eye startled her beyond her remaining thread of control.

After a scornful snort from the man, probably at her rather rude squeal, Sarah heard him stomp away and jumped slightly at the loud pop that rang off in the distance.

"Shh… it's alright. You get used to him," Nymphadora crooned.

"Are you ready, Tonks?" the one called Arthur asked, standing alongside them, holding his wand aloft guiding with him a stretcher, that Sarah had no idea from where it had come, with Severus lying atop. Tonks nodded, and then he paused to hand something to the old wizard.

"You might wish to deal with this," he suggested, waiting a moment while Albus took the proffered thick, Ministry envelope, and then turned to sweep Tonks and Sarah out the door ahead of himself before following with the stretcher carrying Severus.

"Hmm…" Dumbledore said with a small nod, pocketing the unopened letter to swing his wand in the air with a confidant flourish before a large, bright and shining majestic bird, resembling Severus' doe in composition, burst from the end of the instrument. Sarah did not see what happened next as she was ushered out the door into the darker street.

As soon as the four were past the letterbox Tonks took her arm in a firm grasp. "Hold me tightly… don't be frightened. This is called Apparating… it's our way to travel long distance." she said, giving Sarah a reassuring smile.

Sarah nodded mechanically. "I know… I did it already… with Severus."

"You did?" Tonks asked quizzically, but there was no time for Sarah to respond.

"Ready?" Arthur spoke, then after a moment both he and Tonks nodded and the spinning began.

S.S

Apparating was no less alarming the second time, Sarah decided; welcoming her first deep breath after the world rushed to right itself.

She heard a moan from her left and turned to see Arthur leaning over the stretcher.

"Stay strong, Severus, we're almost there. Poppy will sort you out."

"Get a move on you two… constant vigilance! Tonks, you know better than to linger after Apparition!" the 'eye' man chastised harshly with a growl.

The young witch seemed to flush visibly in the very low light and for a moment Sarah even thought she'd noticed the woman's hair had also changed to a vibrant red instead of the hot pink…

'But no, it couldn't have been… it must have been the moonlight glowing on her oddly…' she thought, though thoroughly unconvinced. Anything was possible, wasn't it; they were all witches and wizards, weren't they?

The trek up the twisting road was long, laborious and silent, and Sarah wondered why they hadn't just 'Apparated' closer to their destination. Just as they turned a final corner where the trees seemed to open up the 'eye' man, _Alastor_, Sarah reminded herself, spoke up.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Miss…?"

"Evans… Sarah Evans," she supplied.

He grunted before indicating with a vague gesture up ahead. Sarah looked in the direction his hand had directed and was absolutely amazed and in awe of the sight that she beheld. She stopped dead in her tracks with a gasp, hardly able to give her limbs direction to keep moving.

Ahead of her stood the most impressive, most enormous castle with many towers and turrets spiking high into the night sky. Mostly only the silhouette was visible because of the low light, but the picture was no less remarkable and striking in Sarah's opinion.

"Oh my God… that's incredible, it's so beautiful," she blurted softly, overcome with the vision.

"That she is," Alastor agreed, giving the Muggle woman a small nudge in her back to get her moving again. "Not many Muggles are allowed this privilege… only a select few _special_ individuals. Dumbledore has infinite insight sometimes," he said, and Sarah had the distinct impression the man was fishing for information about her; such as why _she_ in particular was amongst the 'special' few.

She looked up at him, but between the grotesque scarring on the man's face and the rapidly swirling eye Sarah couldn't hold her gaze long. It was making her feel distinctly queasy.

"They call me Mad-Eye," he offered a little patronisingly, though Sarah instantly agreed it was certainly fitting and appropriate.

"Leave her alone, Moody," Tonks interjected, placing herself protectively between the Muggle woman and her wizard interlocutor. Sarah was certainly grateful, her evening had been trying to say the least and she longed for it to be over. It would be nice to know the worst of it was over and she could just calm down; dealing with an interrogation when there was nothing to tell, especially by someone so intimidating, was a stress she hoped to avoid given the way she was feeling at this point in time.

The pain in her lower abdomen hadn't gone away, but it had been far overshadowed by the dramas of earlier and she'd been trying hard not to think about it now. When they got where they were going, and Severus had been seen and treated by a doctor, she was hoping to get some advice herself.

As it was Sarah was almost bursting to go to the loo… for more than one reason. Over the last half hour she'd definitely felt a few odd trickles in her nether regions and was hoping they did not turn out to be what she feared. She unconsciously wrapped an arm around the slight swell of her abdomen.

"Yes, let her be, Alastor, there will be time for inquiries later," Arthur agreed, watching the Muggle woman with some concern for her.

"Sarah?" Arthur added kindly, "are you alright?"

Sarah didn't know what to say. She wasn't really alright… but nor was she in dire straights as Severus was.

"Uh…" she stammered, wanting to explain her situation, but not really sure where to begin.

"Snape will be okay, I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to get him well," Tonks offered with the intent to be helpful.

Sarah nodded, hoping she was right, but her own issues still pressed at her.

Arthur was watching her with even more concentration, his eyes tracking over the length of her body, drawn particularly to her hand wrapped low across her belly, and after a few moments an expression of surprised comprehension flowed over his features.

"Are you… are you with… child? Do you need to see a healer? Er… a doctor?" he amended, his tone serious and urgent.

Sarah noticed where his eyes rested and nodded, glad to have someone finally understand her predicament without her having to actually say it out loud.

The other two gaped at her at the revelation. Their heads whipped in unison toward the injured wizard being carted on the stretcher, and back to Sarah. It was obvious the conclusions they were drawing.

"I only just met _him_ tonight," Sarah said, instantly heading off their deductions. "He's not the father," she added, just so she was utterly clear.

Both the witch and wizard frowned with contemplation.

"And yet 'he'_ brought_ you though?" Moody growled his confirming question almost accusingly.

Sarah nodded. "He knocked me over… when he was running, I didn't really have a choice," she told them, defending herself automatically, but she did not have the opportunity to complete her story. They were now approaching the large, wooden, castle entrance and as they came within several feet the door began to swing open of its own accord; or so Sarah perceived, anyway.

Moody left them to return to the gates to ensure Dumbledore and Harry Potter arrived unimpeded, while Sarah, Severus and their chaperones climbed the prolific staircases until they had reached the third floor, Tonks showing even more care for her charge now that she'd been made aware of the Muggle woman's dilemma.

"Ow," Sarah intoned softly as the pain spiked in her abdomen. Sarah guessed that climbing the numerous stairs had aggravated her condition.

"We're nearly there," Tonks assured sympathetically.

"This is the school's infirmary," Tonks explained briefly a few moments later after leading her down a long, darkened hallway. "Madam Pomfrey is the school nurse… she's a qualified healer. She'll help both of you."

Ahead of them was a set of heavy double doors. Tonks pushed them open and ushered the others through.

"Ah, here you are," an anxious voice proclaimed.

"Poppy… Severus is hurt badly. Where do you want him?" Arthur asked in place of a greeting.

"Set him down over here," she answered, immediately indicating to the closest bed.

Arthur guided the floating stretcher carrying Severus to the bed indicated and Sarah blinked in awe as the stretcher instantly vanished from beneath him.

The nurse immediately leaned over the injured man, producing her wand from an apron tied at her waist. He did not respond in any way to the woman spelling his clothes open at his chest, so Sarah guessed he must be unconscious once more.

A tear sprang from her eye as she observed the woman work frantically over the dark man. He looked so vulnerable and frail… his skin pale to the point of stark white, especially so in contrast to the darkness of his hair and clothes. She truly wondered if he was really going to pull through this time; he'd been through quite an ordeal and Sarah could barely imagine the strength he must have called on to see him persist through the night until help had arrived.

And still he had seemed to attempt to get Sarah the help she needed too. She thought he was much more incredible than what she had first given him credit for upon meeting earlier in the evening. She prayed he wouldn't die… not after all that effort.

She looked away; not any longer able to witness the desperate and urgent endeavours of the healer and her new, eager, pink-haired assistant to get the wizard first stable and then on the road to recovery.

"I need the toilets, please… where are they?" she asked the person standing closest to her. Her tone was quite abrupt, but fortunately the man didn't take offence from it.

"Here, I'll show you," Arthur said tenderly, leading her away toward the dark corridor.

"Down there and to the right," he directed, pointing the way. "I'll send Tonks to make sure you don't need anything as soon as she's free, alright?" he offered, seeming a little reluctant to send her off on her own, but not comfortable accompanying a female, virtual stranger into the ladies loos.

Sarah nodded. "Thanks," she said mildly, making her way up the hall and disappearing through the small doorway she'd been shown.

At first Sarah approached the large mirror above the basins, and she gazed at herself for several moments, taking in the awful vision she made.

She too was pale, but worse was the abundant stains of dried, brown blood smeared over her frame. She touched the smudge across her cheek, thinking forlornly of the man from whom it had come who was right now fighting for his life down the hall.

Sarah glanced critically back at her own image.

Her hair was a mess, and she looked so tired… her eyes were shadowed by dark circles and shaped in an expression of bleak devastation. She looked absolutely wretched.

She felt another small trickle in her nether regions and she gasped in dismay. The pain she had been feeling since arriving at the top of the stairs deepened to a very painful cramp and she began to sob quietly before suddenly she experienced a sharp pain and abruptly felt a gush that soaked down her inner thighs.

"Oh God, no…" she whispered before glancing down at the blood that drenched her jeans. She slipped down to her knees, clutching at her paining pelvis and wept in distress and desolation; her heart aching in sorrow.


	7. Chapter 7  Remorse

_**Welcome back!**_

_**Okay... here I offer the last of the pre-written chapters. There is a short 8th chapter over at the other account for those who cannot wait, but be warned it is not complete. It will not be posted here until it is fully written and I am satisfied.**_

_**I have recently decided to move house, so unfortunately will not be able to dedicate as much time to writing new stuff as I had hoped and promised until after the move and things have settled again. I apologise for this now, but the good news is that when I do get into my new house I will have a lovely sea view to inspire me when I do get time to write. Possibly expect a few more romantic scenes to burst into all my fics for a couple of months... ocean views and romance just seem to go together, don't they? ;)**_

_**Anyway, back to the topic...**_

_**Poor Sarah... let's find out if there is any hope...**_

_**And what about Severus, how's he after the trauma and drama. And better yet, how's he going to feel when he wakes and learns of Sarah's condition?**_

_**For answers, read below... and of course, let me know what you all think...**_

_**Enjoy!**_

**Chapter 7** – _Remorse_

Tonks came rushing into the bathroom a few minutes later, summoned urgently by Arthur Weasley who had pushed open the bathroom door; drawn by the sounds of Sarah's dramatic sobs, and discovered the disheartening scene.

The young Auror knelt next to the distraught, weeping Muggle woman; taking her into her arms.

"Madam Pomfrey will be here in a minute… shh..." she crooned, attempting to calm the hysterical woman. She looked down at the large amount of blood staining the woman's inner thighs and grimaced in commiseration. She admittedly didn't know much about pregnancy or miscarriages, but in her opinion simply the sheer volume of blood on the scene suggested things did not bode well for Sarah's unborn foetus.

Poppy would be held up for a few more moments trying to get Severus stable; the Order's spy had been gruesomely sliced open across his chest and stomach, and consequently had lost a great deal of blood… he was in danger of permanent damage to his vital organs if the bleeding continued; the Matron had told Tonks.

Madam Pomfrey had managed to dose the man with a measure of _Blood-Replenisher_ but was still working on closing the extensive wound when Arthur had begun calling for help from the hallway. Despite the apparent urgency of the new drama, Poppy had not felt she could leave the wounded man's side just yet; sending the younger witch to assist Mr Weasley instead.

Tonks looked up hopelessly at Arthur, her own tears beginning to prick behind her eyes; summoned unbidden by the sound of the other woman's distress.

"I think we should try to get her into the ward," he suggested, moving to physically lift Sarah from the ground.

Tonks nodded, relinquishing her embrace and assisting to lift the Muggle woman into Arthur's arms. He carried her with care down the stone hall and through the double doors; resting her gently onto a bed opposite from where Poppy was still working on Severus.

"What is it… what's happened?" Poppy questioned, barely looking up from her patient.

Tonks, looking pained, crossed over to her and spoke with quiet urgency to the Matron.

"She was pregnant… I think she may have just lost her baby," she said, her voice quivering slightly whilst relaying the devastating news.

Poppy's head shot up, staring with astounded astonishment at the young, pink haired Auror. Her gaze slipped over to the woman on the bed opposite being consoled by Arthur Weasley, taking note of the presence of the large amount of blood announcing the probable tragedy.

"Oh no…" she whispered quietly, shaking her head; a worried frown furrowing her brow.

"Is there any chance…" Tonks asked, not quite being able to put into words her hope for the pregnancy.

Madam Pomfrey swallowed. "I can't say… not without a spell," she replied cautiously, having been trained not to raise false hopes, especially when circumstances looked bleak - like now.

"Close the curtains around her bed, I'll be there as quick as I can," she told her two assistants, turning her attention back to the wounded man to finalise this initial phase of treatment as best she could for the time being.

Madam Pomfrey definitely felt under pressure, Severus needed her attention and focus along with her skills to get him out of trouble… but it was clear there was another disaster unfolding which required the Matron's expertise immediately and urgently.

As soon as she felt satisfied with Severus Snape's condition, Poppy crossed the ward and disappeared behind the curtain.

"What's her name?" she asked gently of Tonks.

"Sarah," the young witch supplied softly with a small saddened smile.

Poppy nodded. "Why don't you go and keep an eye on Severus for me," she suggested, gesturing with her chin in the direction of the injured man's bed.

Tonks nodded and left the curtained area.

By now the Muggle woman had calmed down a little and a recurring hitch in her breath and occasional sniff was the only evidence of her great distress. She was still clinging to Arthur Weasley with her face buried in his shoulder.

"Sarah… let me check you over sweetheart," Poppy offered gently, laying a comforting hand over the woman's arm. The woman rolled toward her slightly and Poppy sent her a small encouraging smile. "That's it love… let me see…"

S.S

When the Matron emerged from the curtain over twenty minutes later she locked her gaze with the young Auror sitting beside the Potions Master's bed.

"How is she… did her… I mean, has it…?" Tonks started, standing up, not really sure how to phrase what she wanted to know. She sighed shortly and bit her lip in anxious anticipation.

Poppy held the young woman's gaze before she let out a short, disheartened sigh of her own and shook her head from side to side slightly. A grim expression supported the negative diagnosis.

"Oh no," Tonks unconsciously echoed, screwing her features in sorrow and covering her mouth with a hand.

"I have given Sarah a Calming draft; though she refused to take a sleeping potion… nevertheless she seems to be resting for the moment anyway, the poor dear," Poppy explained. "Arthur has gone to see if Albus has arrived yet," she added.

After a short pause and glance back at the curtained hospital bed, the Matron asked, "Sarah is a Muggle… why was she not taken to a Muggle hospital?"

Tonks gave it a moment of thought. "Professor Dumbledore just said she was to go with Snape… and we didn't realise until we were nearly here that she needed a healer." Tonks looked down at Snape lying motionless on the bed. "We judged that Severus needed you more urgently though… I didn't know-"

"You aren't to blame, Nymphadora," Poppy insisted gently, consoling the upset young woman, "besides; I greatly suspect it would already have been too late by the time you all arrived here, even if I'd seen to her first."

Poppy too gazed down at the unconscious wizard. "Was the child Severus'?" she asked, curious and more than mildly surprised at the idea.

"Well, that's what we thought initially too, but actually Sarah made it clear that he wasn't the father… apparently they only met earlier this evening… well, yesterday evening, I suppose," Tonks said, taking note of the time. "The story goes that Severus collided with her when he was fleeing You-Know-Wh-" Tonks ceased her explanation abruptly, realising belatedly just what she was revealing to Madam Pomfrey, who was _not_ a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

The Matron, however, was no fool. Although not an official member of the Order, she was well aware of its existence and what they stood for. She obviously knew the identity of several members as well, as this was not the first time she had been requested by Dumbledore to provide medical assistance for a desperate, injured member of the movement. She did so gladly and discreetly for the Headmaster, solidifying his trust in her.

The reason _she_ had not become an official member stemmed from her dedication to her role as Matron at Hogwart's infirmary, and not a lack of desire or a fear of joining an organisation that opposed the monstrous threat Lord Voldemort presented. Poppy Pomfrey believed her professional dedication to _all_ students, whichever side of the fence their families fell in this war, was best served from a publically neutral standpoint. Her determination to make a difference in _this_ manner was unwavering… with the only exception being times like this when Dumbledore needed a healer urgently and discreetly.

Therefore she did not question, react or allude to the glaringly obvious clandestine affairs of the Order or its apparent members when presented in front of her – most recently the discovery of Severus Snape's involvement in particular.

Poppy had always vaguely suspected the brusque, mysterious man hid a very surreptitious agenda behind his dark persona, and although she had no idea what it could be, Poppy assumed Albus, as Headmaster, tolerated the inscrutability and attitude for a reason. Incredibly he seemed to trust the dark man despite Professor Snape's unsavoury facade and his often provocatively observable inclinations toward the dark side. Tonight was Poppy's first confirmation that Severus Snape was in fact _aligned_ (at least) with the Order, and it appeared he might just have been playing a deceiving role all these years. It was more than intriguing, and to be honest quite astounding, but Poppy would stay true to form and not say a word.

"Ah…" Poppy intoned, piecing the details together, "yes, she has a few bruises that would support that… I did wonder. So… perhaps he feels… _responsible_ for her then?" the Matron suggested.

"Hmm… maybe," Tonks agreed.

"Mmm, well if that's the case its possible Severus might feel a sense of culpability for what's happened… whether he has earned it or not."

The reality of that supposition rendered both witches silent, for if it were correct then Severus too would find it devastating that the child had been lost even though it was not his own child. He might feel tremendous guilt or anger over the loss if in fact he had been the cause of the reported collision.

"Well, I've more work to do on him, he's not entirely out of danger yet… let's get to it," Poppy commanded, and Tonks straightened her back readying herself for the task of assistant.

..

Sarah woke from her fitful slumber quite disoriented. She lay still, shaking slightly whilst she surveyed what she could see of the room (mainly the high, vaulted ceiling and curtain surrounding her bed) as awful memories came back to her one by one. And then she knew, she was in some kind of hospital bed and she had lost her baby.

She almost let tears overcome her again, but fought the sadness and managed to fend them off. It was done, couldn't be changed… and to some extent she (sickeningly) recalled not really wanting the child to begin with; so what was the point in dwelling. Burning guilt swirled in her stomach and she hated herself. She was awful.

Sarah sat up and twisted herself to swing her legs off the edge of the bed. She had a pressing need to use the toilet… and she had to find it first.

As she pushed herself to her feet she noticed the unfamiliar nightgown she was now wearing; she didn't even remember changing. As she emerged from the curtain she immediately saw the bathroom at the end of the long room to her right and made her way quickly through the small door. After using the facilities she washed her hands and again found herself gazing at her reflection in the mirror. It was then that she realised her skin and hair was clean and free from the dirt and blood that had made her look so wretched the last time she had looked upon herself. She didn't remember having a shower… because she hadn't. Come to think of it, there was an unusual absence of loss… she'd have expected to still be bleeding at least a little. And suddenly the most astounding memories of the previous evening slammed into her, forcing themselves to be acknowledged.

The existence and proof of_ magic_…

At that moment she recalled that she was at _Hogwarts_… a school for magical children; a castle… she was inside the castle.

And Severus… she'd been brought with the strange man – a wizard – who had knocked her over and then taken her along with him to a house in Surrey. And he'd been hurt; badly… it had been _his_ blood all over her.

'Where is he… is he alright?' she thought wildly, and immediately wiped her hands dry against her thighs and rushed out the door.

Her gaze immediately identified the curtained bed she'd just vacated and then slid to another curtained area across the room. That must have been the bed she'd seen him placed on when they'd first arrived… and she just now remembered how scared she'd felt for his survival.

'Oh, God… let him still be alive… please!' she begged silently.

Sarah swiftly moved to the curtain and pushed the sheet aside. He was there, lying still and flat upon the mattress. He didn't look dead, but she couldn't immediately see any signs of life either. Needing to _know_ for sure she quickly approached the bed.

"Severus?" she whispered, but did not receive a response.

He was very pale still, and his long, shiny, black hair stood out in stark contrast to his complexion; making him appear even more ghostly. He was freshened up too, Sarah noticed; his skin clean and his torn, dark coat, cloak and white shirt absent entirely, with only thick, clean, white bandages covering his entire torso. The blanket covered him up to his hips, but Sarah imagined soft pyjama bottoms had replaced the dark trousers beneath the covers.

Very reluctantly, for fear of feeling his skin unnaturally icy, Sarah reached out a hand and placed it on the top of his chest, just above the bandage; pleading to feel his chest rise and fall as she had back in the car.

With her hand still one centimetre from his skin she thankfully felt his body's warmth radiate up and she swiftly lowered her hand to his chest where she immediately felt him take a soft, yet full breath.

"Oh, thank goodness," she whispered, almost with a sob. "Severus?" she repeated, sliding her hand up to cup his neck before adding another hand to gently rub his opposite shoulder.

"He's in an induced sleep," a voice suddenly spoke from behind Sarah, causing her to jump and step away from the unconscious man. "He won't wake up without the counter spell," the female voice continued to explain.

Sarah looked from Severus to the Matron standing at the gap in the curtain.

"Is he okay?" she asked, wanting to feel assured.

"He will be… I've induced sleep so his body can heal as quickly and efficiently as possible." The Medi-witch slipped passed her and set down a large jar on the bedside cabinet.

"Oh..." Sarah said, gleaming an understanding. She glanced back at Severus silently thanking the heavens for answering her plea.

"And how are _you_ feeling?" the Matron asked.

Sarah glanced once again to the older woman. "I'm okay… just a bit sad," she admitted.

The Matron nodded. "I'm sorry there wasn't anything I could do."

Sarah just nodded sadly, acknowledging the witch's efforts anyway despite the lack of success.

"Why don't you hop back into bed… I'd like you to get a bit more rest before someone takes you home," Madam Pomfrey said, her tone indicating more of a directive than a suggestion. "I'll come and have a little talk in several minutes, okay?"

With another glance at Severus' prone figure Sarah nodded and returned to her own curtained area – but she did not climb onto the bed; she had a strong suspicion the Matron was about to re-awaken Severus for further treatment, and she wanted to see for herself that he was okay.

She waited a couple of minutes before creeping back to the split in Severus' curtain.

Sarah heard a low moan come from the man on the bed.

"Easy, Severus… breathe," the Medi-witch directed. "Good lad… now, take a dose of _Pain-Reliever_… that's it… good."

"Yes… yes, you're at Hogwarts."

"Right… now let me see this wound…"

Sarah immediately decided she did not need to witness this after all and made her way quickly back to her bed to wait for the Medi-witch to visit her.

..

Once the potion had taken effect Severus felt considerably less discomfort whilst breathing. He could see the red scar that ran across and down his torso once the Medi-witch had removed the bandage. He felt a slight shudder run through him at the thought of the severity of the injury; surprised that he'd managed to escape and evade the hunting Death Eaters and had continued to try to evacuate the boy from his home whilst afflicted.

"Potter…?" he queried with concern in response to his train of thought.

"I'm told is with the Headmaster… safe and sound," Poppy answered briskly. "I'll let him know you are awake when I am finished here."

Madam Pomfrey reached for the glass jar she'd deposited earlier and began to apply the brew to the entire length of tender scar.

"Dittany for a curse scar such as this, Severus… I have identified the signs correctly haven't I?" Poppy queried with a small smirk.

Surprised the woman had recalled something he'd explained to her about an obscure curse and its treatment a couple of years ago Severus could only nod his agreement, dumbfounded. He'd become engaged in such a conversation with the Matron over the holiday break the Christmas after the return of the Dark Lord… he must have had a few too many Eggnogs under his belt to hint to anyone a probable return of nasty curses in the coming year; subsequently describing one and relating its cure. This was why he rarely drank more than one alcoholic beverage in a sitting… the most vital of his secrets could be betrayed by a simple, seemingly innocent comment when his guard was down – he could kick himself for his foolishness!

Of course, he was supremely thankful the Medi-witch had known how to cure him… as, try as he might, he couldn't actually remember any happenings from soon after Dumbledore had burst through the door of Potter's house in Surrey, and therefore assumed he could not have lent advice on his own treatment. He might very well have suffered fatal damage from blood loss before anyone devised an effective treatment – _Blood-Replenisher_ or not.

As if his own train of thought prompted the Medi-witch, she finished applying the poultice and handed him a phial filled with blue liquid, shortly followed by two more, one yellow and one orange. She then directed her wand to wrap his torso wound in fresh bandages once more.

"The yellow for the infection and a _Tissue-Regeneration_ draught," Poppy supplied as she caught him gazing questioningly at the phials trying to identify the contents. "And of course you would have recognised the _Blood-Replenisher_," she said nonchalantly indicating the empty phial in his other hand.

He nodded, but could not help himself but question her. "Infection?" he asked, curious as to how badly he'd been affected.

"Yes… despite your attempts with Muggle methods. It did help though, I suppose."

'Muggle methods..?' he thought confusedly. 'Muggle…?" And abruptly he remembered his Muggle female companion… and the woman's dilemma.

"Sarah… where is she? She's pregnant… there was blood," he blurted out, suddenly flustered and anxious. Poppy attempted to calm him immediately.

"Shh, shh, shh… she's across the room resting, Severus… quiet now," she insisted, taking hold of his arm.

At her command he was listening intently; breathing quickly, his stomach weighed down with apprehensive dread.

"Listen," she said, pointlessly, "by the time Sarah was brought to me it was already too late. I'm sorry, but there was nothing I could do… the baby was lost… I'm sorry."

Severus felt as though all the air in his lungs were instantly sucked out. He couldn't breathe, his chest was tight and his stomach swooped in shock. He felt dazed and he searched Poppy Pomfrey's face for signs of doubt… for anything he could base hope on; but he found nothing.

His shock turned instantly to an ache that morphed quickly to anger… anger at himself for not paying attention to where he had been running; for not checking the woman over properly immediately after their fall; fury for not taking her situation seriously or urgently enough when he had found out; shame and rage and regret for not feeling the life of an unborn child was worthy of distracting him from his mission; anger and resentment at _her_ for not demanding and stamping her feet that he help her!

Why had she even been there in the first place? She had no business being there!

Why had she not said anything? Why had she not put her baby first?

Why was this tragedy _his_ to deal with at all? Hadn't he enough on his shoulders?

Severus was so furious… and he gripped hard to the emotion, afraid that if he allowed it to wane his true feelings of guilt for being responsible for this calamity might overwhelm him.

"Sarah will recover though, she'll be fine in a few days," Poppy added, thinking this might jolt the visibly shaken man from his shock.

"She shouldn't have even been there," Severus growled sharply, averting his gaze to glare at the curtain in front of him. In reality he was imagining the sobbing woman in the bed across the other side of the room.

"I don't think she blames you, Severus," Poppy tried to reason; attempting to work out what she was really witnessing. Surely the man wasn't truly angry with the woman who had just lost her unborn child.

"Just leave me alone," he said, not even attempting to keep his tone civil. His hands were beginning to shake a little.

Taken aback by the unexpected venom to his tone Poppy hesitated a moment before stepping closer again to soothe him.

"Severus… I can get you a calming drau-"

"NO!" he roared, cutting her off. He didn't want a calming draught… he didn't want to calm down. He just wanted to be left alone!

He abruptly struggled to a sitting position and swung his legs off the side of the hospital bed. With Poppy protesting and pleading for him to be reasonable he wrenched open the small drawer under the bedside table and snatched up his wand he had hoped was waiting within.

He stomped away from the bedside with as much defiance and grace as his injured body would allow him, held up momentarily by the rebellious curtain that refused to be parted until he pointed his wand at it and slashed the sheet apart.

"Well, don't go too far," Poppy called out once more when he continued to ignore reason.

He snorted incredulously and wrapped an arm around his bandaged torso which was beginning to protest at the exertion.

As he passed by the opposite bed he looked up and saw the curtain open about a foot and as he focused further he locked eyes with the Muggle woman who appeared alarmed at the commotion. He wrenched his gaze away and stormed out the infirmary doors tormented further by the paradox of emotions her tragedy had sparked in him.

Severus walked with increasing fatigue and soreness for several minutes until he'd reached the opposite side of the castle and had ascended three floors. His hands were shaking visibly, sweat was beading upon his forehead, his legs felt weak, and he was just conceding that this may not have been the smartest of ideas when he stumbled with his last step; crashing down onto his knees, the last vestiges of his anger leaching from him.

With the absence of anger, Severus was left only guilt and remorse and his physical suffering left him no energy to deny it.

He'd _killed_ a child… an innocent, pure, tiny, unborn infant!

And he could barely comprehend how devastated the notion made him feel. Sobs broke through his restraint and shuddered through his paining chest and stomach. But somehow the pain felt right, as if it was a punishment well deserved. His hand reached up and covered his eyes as the tears finally flowed. He had no more honour to guard… his soul had been torn and stained beyond his recognition; and now the final unblemished part of him had ultimately been tainted by his blackened core.

In all the days he legitimately sought power and prestige with the dark side… he'd never wanted this!


	8. Chapter 8  Not Your Fault

**_Hello!_**

**_Long time no see...? *is sorry*_**

**_Well, let's get on with the show. Poor Severus is feeling rather sore and sorry for himself, and a great deal of guilt over what happened to poor Sarah. But let's see if he can put things in perspective now he's had time to digest the initial shock._**

**_And let's also find out how Sarah is coping and see if we can't pry out of her a little more of her story..._**

**_Enjoy! And please share your opinions and comments..._**

**Chapter 8** – _Not Your Fault_

A further twenty minutes went by before someone found him, sitting and leaning a shoulder heavily against the cold, stone wall in the darkened corridor. He still only wore the infirmary pyjama pants and the thick bandages around his torso; and he was shaking mildly from cool air and cold stone.

Albus crouched down to his level and clasped him gently by his bare shoulder.

"Severus… come back to where you can be cared for; you're still not well, my boy. What happened was _not_ your fault… no-one blames you," he assured the injured man.

Severus looked up at his employer. "_I_ blame me," Severus corrected, but he appeared slightly dazed to the Headmaster.

"It was nothing more than a tragic accident… you did nothing purposeful to cause it; you cannot blame yourself," Dumbledore insisted more forcefully. "And you will see this when you are feeling better and thinking more clearly," he added firmly.

"But you don't understand… a child, a _baby_… I never wanted…"

"Oh, but I do understand, Severus. I do," Dumbledore interrupted with conviction. "You're struggling with your part in this tragedy, and you have come to the erroneous conclusion that the death of Sarah's child was down to you… and that somehow it has marked you inside… marked your character, further tainted your essence." The Headmaster sighed lightly and shuffled slightly closer to the troubled man, sliding his hand from Severus' shoulder to lie flat across his chest above his heart.

"But you see, the earlier damage you perceive to your soul…" the Headmaster continued with a light pat to the younger man's chest, "… well, I won't pretend you have committed no sin, but the damage… well, it's not nearly as severe as you might have imagined. You see, despite your faults, Severus, your spirit is light, chivalrous and charitable in nature and I shall explain how I can be so sure of this; for if it was even half as sinister as you believe you could not possibly feel the amount of sorrow or devastation as you obviously do now… it just wouldn't be _in_ you."

Severus' eyes shot up to the Headmaster's, trying hard to determine whether the old man was sprouting bollocks designed merely to placate him, or not.

After several moments not being able to find fault with the logic he finally lowered his chin, feeling quite stricken with the Headmaster's quite complimentary and reassuring suggestion.

Albus let a small, satisfied smile stretch his lips. "You take too much to heart, my boy; and I suspect you always have and always will."

Severus snorted softly in dismissal, but this did not mean he had not internalised the old man's words… however his self-doubt lingered and had led him to make the show of brushing the idea aside.

"I _know_ you feel much more deeply than you let on to most, Severus… trust that your heart is bearing the truth of who you are," Albus added at the dark man's subtle refute.

After a short pause the recovering wizard gasped out a sharp breath and dipped his head lower.

"I don't feel well," Severus simply stated, swallowing thickly. He did indeed feel quite poorly, though it was the lack of knowing how to further respond to the compassionate encouragement that made him make the innocuous statement instead.

Dumbledore smirked in amusement, returning his hand to the younger man's shoulder. "No… I don't imagine you do. You did not take all your medicine before you stormed off, so Poppy informed me, and nor did she have the opportunity to finish her examination. I have to say I can tell from just looking at you that Poppy would find something to treat. At any rate, sitting on a cold, stone floor barely dressed will not be helping your recovery. Let me help you up."

After a heavy sigh Severus nodded his agreement and after a small struggle the dark man was standing shakily beside his employer. Dumbledore promptly assisted him back to the infirmary and into his bed; where an awkward and embarrassing number of witnesses quickly dispersed at the dark man's pointed glare.

Madam Pomfrey swiftly concluded the remainder of her examination and ensured he swallowed the doses of potions she had measured for him earlier, plus a _Fever Reducer_ after clicking her tongue with consternation immediately following her check of his temperature.

However, Severus refused to let her put him into another induced sleep; to be rendered _that_ vulnerable after his recently discovered betrayal of the Death Eaters made him exceedingly nervous. Instead, after Madam Pomfrey had concluded her fussing, Severus lay propped comfortably on pillows resting his eyes and waiting for Dumbledore's inevitable interview to determine just how the spy's loyalties had been exposed.

He opened his eyes and turned his head when he heard someone sit in the chair beside his bed.

"I remember now that you did try to inform me of Sarah's worsening condition, Severus," Dumbledore was explaining, "though it pains me to admit I did not fully understand your warning. And Sarah herself, I believe, was caught up in her concern for _you_ at the time. You were, after all, in quite a bad way."

Apart from shifting his glance from Dumbledore's aged face and in the direction of Sarah's bed beyond the curtain Severus did not respond. He would probably continue to struggle over his feelings about the tragedy of the previous evening for quite some time despite Albus' words of wisdom. And whilst he remained feeling low physically no doubt his conscience would continue to find itself a convenient and easy target.

Consequently, he no longer wanted to talk about this; the topic was causing his anguish to resurface, so he skilfully redirected the subject.

"Where is the boy?" he asked, genuinely curious and at least temperately concerned.

"Safe. He's asleep in my office. No need for concern," Dumbledore offered, pacifyingly.

Severus nodded, relieved and adequately reassured.

"Sarah had the potion on her; though of course it was incomplete… I trust you retrieved it?" he added, wanting to be sure his obligations for now had been met.

Recognising the rebuff of the initial line of conversation Dumbledore smiled gently and acquiesced. "Yes, I have it," he confirmed, "we'll go through it together in the next few days."

Severus nodded, agreeing to the proposal. Other than that he did not further the discussion.

"So, what happened… what went wrong?" Albus asked, deciding it was time to get into this issue more directly.

Severus huffed out a sigh. "The formula was getting dangerously close to what I perceived to be viable and I was worried I might not have an opportunity to warn the Order to get the boy out in time before the attack. All in all I suppose I panicked."

He glanced at the Headmaster and found him intently listening, so continued.

"I intended to leave for merely minutes; just enough time to get word to the Order to begin taking precautions, but I was barely out of the building before I assume my assistant was discovered bound and I missing."

Dumbledore was nodding in understanding. "It was perhaps a mistake not to simply make some excuse instead of restrain your assistant, then?" he suggested mildly.

Severus agreed with a nod. "Yes… with hindsight. I had hoped to give the impression of never having been absent, though," Severus defended. "I was not expecting anyone to interrupt us through the procedure; the Dark Lord himself insisted the recipe be completed without disruption. I couldn't tell you the purpose of the one who found Alecto incapacitated… even now," he admitted.

"Hmm…" Dumbledore intoned, "perhaps a message bearing an alteration to the formula?" he suggested thoughtfully.

Severus shrugged. He conceded it might have been a possibility and then continued.

"I was half-way to the Manor gates when I heard them raise the alarm. It was soon after that that I collided with Sarah; I did not see her immediately for the fog."

Dumbledore's expression became clouded with calculated suspicion. "Sarah was inside the Manor grounds? Are they not protected by a great many wards and Muggle repellents?" he asked.

"Yes," Severus confirmed with a nod, "but _I'd_ already summoned the gates to open at that stage… she could have simply been loitering outside the drive. She claimed her car had run out of fuel," Severus explained.

"She was there by coincidence?" the older wizard queried.

"Uh… of that I am not sure," Severus confessed. "I questioned her presence of course; however we never had an opportunity to finish the conversation."

Dumbledore continued to look thoughtful. "I see,' he commented, nodding lightly.

"Er… she _did_ say she'd been searching for someone," Severus added, recalling the information suddenly.

"Anybody we know?" Dumbledore queried, looking curious.

"I don't know… from what I remember she did not get a chance to mention a name."

After another thoughtful pause Dumbledore nodded. "Hmm… I shall direct these queries to Sarah myself then… later," he said, and then regarded Severus curiously for a few silent moments.

"And how is it you come about your injury…?"

Severus swallowed and ducked his head, embarrassment sweeping over him and colouring his cheeks.

"Again, my own ineptitude," he admitted shamefully. "I was distracted ensuring Sarah had time to escape the scene. I was caught off guard and hit with a timely curse that managed to slip between the gates before I managed to get them sealed and warded."

"Ah…" Dumbledore responded, nodding. "And yet it is but _more_ proof of that chivalrous and charitable nature within you, my boy. Throwing yourself in front of the proverbial 'bullet' for a lady… not at all anything to feel ashamed about," he assured with a cheeky grin and a small wink from his twinkling eye.

Severus was too astounded by the older wizard's both highly inappropriate, yet largely complimentary comment to respond in any way but prevent his jaw from dropping to the floor.

"Nevertheless… it would be highly advantageous to remain whole and healthy for the duration of any future tasks… may I perhaps suggest a mite _less_ chivalry?" the Headmaster continued to joke, chuckling softly.

Still incredulous of the old man's impertinence and seemingly flippant disregard for last evenings' trial, Severus answered stonily, "Yes… quite. I shall take it under advisement."

Aware of the young man's lack of humour for his jokes, Albus sobered himself.

"You need your rest. Is there anything else you feel I should be made aware of before I leave you to it?" he asked.

There was silence while Severus recalled and considered what he'd learned over the past several days since last speaking with Dumbledore.

"Yes, actually… an associate let slip within hearing distance that several new recruits were secretly inducted a few months ago," Severus divulged, frowning slightly. "Vincent Crabbe, the silly little _idiot_, was apparently among the group to take the mark!"

It was quite obvious the dark man was rather furious and frustrated, and if he was honest, quite _dismayed_ by the boy's foolhardy decision.

Dumbledore's disappointed and saddened expression hinted at the older wizard's accordance with the Potion Master's outlook on the development. The old man sighed wearily; shaking his head.

"Why must you boys _do_ this?" he said with soft exasperation looking at Severus, though the question was more rhetorical than to actually ask.

Also, the comment was seemingly intended to be _inclusive_ of the dark man and his own injudicious choice as a late teen and Severus was rather stricken when he made the realisation.

Of course Severus had _had_ his reasons – admittedly they were probably impetuous and largely driven by extreme sentiment, hurt and passion - but they'd seemed rational at the time. Not so much now, looking back. He regretted the path his life had taken… and it was times like this that he dearly wished he'd listened to Lily all those years ago.

The disillusionment and sorrow Dumbledore had evidently felt for _all_ the students he'd lost to the evil movement over the years, Gryffindors and otherwise (as he'd been Headmaster to them all), was never so evident or made any sense to him until now… until he'd experienced it himself from the perspective of a teacher and Head of Slytherin House – because, whether he genuinely personally liked Vincent Crabbe or not, he was ultimately responsible for the boy, and Severus took that responsibility very seriously.

'As Albus must have,' he concluded.

Of course, this did not mean that Severus approved, understood or applauded every decision or dealing the old man had made concerning his students (those choices and decisions affecting Severus himself when he attended Hogwarts most especially) but he did feel the older wizard's general intent and desire had always been to keep his flock protected and their opportunities accessible. Unfortunately it just didn't always work out that way for some. Some were crushed and railroaded by the needs of the greater… and Severus' adult perspective now accepted that this small number was most likely inevitable; as wretched as that might be.

"Has the lad taken part in any Death Eater activity to date that you know of?" the Headmaster asked, looking to Severus for his response.

Severus shook his head. "I cannot say I'm afraid; I only overheard that their choice of _celebration_ after the induction was apparently not taken well by the Dark Lord. I am under the impression the new inductees were punished, though of course I cannot be sure any of what I overheard was based in fact."

Albus nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Were you able to ascertain any details?"

The reclined man shrugged slightly. "I understand it might have been a _Muggle_ event, though, again, I cannot necessarily rely on my source," Severus supplied apologetically, looking as though he was straining to dredge up more details about what he'd overheard from his memory.

Dumbledore nodded again but seemed to suddenly recall he was keeping his injured spy from resting. He held up a placating hand.

"Fine… its fine. Don't worry about it now, Severus. This is not urgent news, it will wait. Besides, I think it high time I leave you in peace. Rest, my boy… there will be time to look further into the matter when you are feeling better."

Severus sighed very quietly. It was certainly a relief to finally be allowed to relax and recuperate his strength. He nodded his agreement.

The old Headmaster pushed to his feet after a farewell nod and left through the curtain.

For a few moments Severus doubted his ability to get to sleep; his mind still roving over the information he'd imparted, but soon he decided his wrung out body and mind greatly required the respite.

Whilst determinedly refusing to let his mind wander over the events of the past evening, Severus relaxed his muscles one by one until his whole body was heavy and tranquil. Within minutes Severus' eyelids had also lost the battle with gravity and he drifted into a much needed state of sleep.

..

Sarah sat stiffly on the end of her hospital bed after the Matron left and she listened to the soft shuffle of footsteps as they left the ward.

The Medi-witch had told Sarah that magical healing was usually much quicker and efficient than 'Muggle' methods and had explained all Sarah had needed to understand about her treatment since the miscarriage.

It surprised Sarah to hear that she was practically back to normal; her womb having returned to its regular size and condition, and all internal tears in the lining of her uterus caused by the collision almost fully healed. Madam Pomfrey had then gone on to assure her that within only a day or two she would be free to have intercourse whenever she felt comfortable and to keep in mind that she was already fertile and could become pregnant if she did not take measures to prevent it. She also reassured her that it was physically safe to do so if she chose to conceive again immediately; though she did recommend that she wait at least a month or two so she might be better able to come to terms with her loss emotionally.

Just talking about the baby had sparked a swell of sadness, guilt and even a sense of inanity for the previous three or four weeks in Sarah. She'd been generally consumed with the idea of locating the man who had made her pregnant ever since discovering her pregnancy at nine weeks along and then, after much deliberation, deciding to keep the baby. But it had taken four weeks to research potential areas to search that matched what she remembered of what the man had described during his seduction, and then to organise the time to take leave from her job to travel there.

She'd gone over in her head just what she wanted to say to the man; to assure him that all she wanted was to make him aware that there 'was' a baby, and if he wanted involvement she would accommodate him. Sarah had no unrealistic expectations (nor even a desire) for a relationship - she had been all too aware of the intended nature of the fleeting union after their encounter, and had hardly expected the man (_'boy'_) to be able to provide financially for the child – for although she wasn't positive of his age she discerned he was quite a bit younger than her.

No, he was hardly good father material, but it was the principle of the thing though… young, irresponsible men wouldn't always necessarily remain young, irresponsible men and _all_ expectant fathers should be made aware if there was a child on the way so they might make a choice whether to be present in the child's life, as she herself had. It was just the _right_ thing to do, wasn't it?

But now it felt as though it was all for nothing; and in a way it was the search itself that had led to the end of the pregnancy. It was nobody's fault; Sarah knew that… it just _was_…

It was just _sad_.

Her hand was resting on her now flatter tummy. She'd barely realised how much her waist had thickened until it suddenly wasn't anymore. Not that she was a super thin woman to begin with, but still it had been a change caused by the pregnancy and it had now vanished along with the child.

She sighed glumly, wondering just how long she would feel like this.

Sarah glanced up the length of the bed to her pillow. Madam Pomfrey had wanted her to rest at least for the remainder of the day before she would look into organising someone to take her home at some point tomorrow. She supposed she would comply… at least if she were asleep she wouldn't dwell on her situation.

The young woman crawled up the bed and slipped under the covers.

She lay with her eyes open, wide awake for several minutes now contemplating the man – _wizard_ – she had become caught up with last night that had led to her own disaster.

_He_ still wasn't well.

When he'd stormed off after being woken early this afternoon, Sarah had felt quite taken aback. When he'd stared at her through the gap in the curtain he'd seemed so devastated, yet angry at the same time and she hadn't really understood the reason for either emotion. Not that she had made out what the commotion had been about to begin with, she supposed.

The much older, grandfatherly wizard, Dumbledore, had quickly been summoned by the worried Matron (and he'd come accompanied by the one known as Mad-eye and the pink-haired woman) and they had all gone in search of Severus; and it had felt like nearly an hour before Mad-eye, Tonks, the two men who must have arrived back from the house in Surrey and Madam Pomfrey had congregated ahead of the old wizard who came shortly after supporting the very pale, shaking dark man and helped him back into his bed.

She'd watched quite surreptitiously from the crack in her own curtain and had almost sniggered out loud when Severus had glared at the waiting audience and they had rather awkwardly turned away and dispersed.

Behind the privacy screen Severus had most likely received more, much needed medical attention from the Matron and then Dumbledore had slipped into the curtained cubicle after the nurse's retreat and had not exited for over half an hour.

Sarah burned to be included in their conference, but had to settle for the Matron's little talk instead.

She'd wanted to talk to Severus, to ask how he was feeling; but she also was a little intimidated because of his strange behaviour. The setting and the magic, although she'd come to terms with its existence, made her nervous too. So when Dumbledore had finally left she'd not found the courage to approach the injured wizard's bed.

Sleep, instead, now offered her another excuse to postpone the interaction, and she soon snuggled down into the bedding and drifted into slumber.

.

"Miss Evans?" called a very soft, male voice from a few feet away. Had Sarah not been coincidentally surfacing from a deep sleep it was unlikely the call would have woken her.

Sarah blinked and opened her eyes.

"Yes?" she returned quietly, a little startled.

"Oh, forgive me," Dumbledore answered, "I only wished to have a quick word. I did not mean to wake you had you been asleep."

"No… no it's okay, please," Sarah replied, propping herself up on an elbow and offering a nearby seat to the aged wizard.

"Do not get up," Dumbledore insisted, taking the seat and waving Sarah back down to her pillow. "I'll only take a moment."

Sarah nodded and lowered herself compliantly.

"First let me express my deepest sympathies, my dear. I'm so sorry to hear of your loss. I feel I am somewhat to blame for not heeding Severus' warning… and for that I am infinitely apologetic."

Sarah was greatly touched, but she could not allow him to take any blame. "Please don't," she said, "Madam Pomfrey has told me that it was likely that had I arrived even up to an hour earlier that she still might not have been able to help. It wasn't your fault at all… it wasn't _anyone's_ fault."

Albus smiled a little sadly at Sarah and nodded. "Still… I only wish there had been something we could have done."

Sarah nodded too. "Thank you," she said, ultimately grateful for the fact that they had tried. Sarah looked up in the direction of Severus' hospital bed.

"Is he okay?" she asked, feeling slightly cowardly for not inquiring with the man himself.

Dumbledore followed her gaze a moment. "Severus? Oh yes, he shall recover," he said, nodding gently. "I'm sure it was quite lucky that you were there to assist him, for Madam Pomfrey tells me he was quite poorly when we finally got him here."

Sarah frowned lightly and huffed out a short breath, realising for the first time that had it actually _not_ been for _her _the man in the bed across the room might not have been injured to start with.

A tangle of thoughts and memories occupied her attention, recapping in her mind how Severus had waited and prompted with increasing aggravation and frustration for Sarah to get into her car and go. But she'd not understood clearly whether she was supposed to go without him, or if he was coming with her; and she'd stood there and argued until it was too late.

Taking into account the collision, the hurried explanations, and the arguing back and forth, Sarah believed she might have delayed him for up to two whole minutes.

And knowing what she knew now, it was clear he was simply intending to Apparate himself once he'd exited the gate and commanded it to close, and frankly he very nearly had done so (when Sarah had not just done what he'd told her), intending (or at least threatening) to leave her there to her own fate; but that's when disaster had struck.

And that meant that had Sarah not hindered and distracted him, he would have disappeared well before the streak of damaging light had ever been cast.

So _that_ was her fault! The notion dismayed her; especially as it took until things were calmed down before she realised it.

Sarah decided there and then that she needed to apologise immediately to Severus directly. And try to explain that she wasn't just an argumentative bimbo, as she certainly appeared during those moments, but had just not understood what had been expected of her.

"Miss Evans?" Dumbledore prodded worriedly.

Sarah looked up at the kindly old man. "I don't think he was lucky I was there. I think it was my fault he was hurt to begin with. I didn't completely understand what he wanted me to do… and I argued with him," she admitted with shame.

Dumbledore looked astounded, and even a mite amused.

"You argued?" he queried, almost smirking. Sarah's frown deepened slightly. "Well, I'm sure Severus bears no grudge. He did not intimate to me any hint that you might be to blame, feel assured."

"Oh?" Sarah uttered, a little surprised. "I thought he might be angry with me."

This time it was Dumbledore's turn to frown with consternation. "Why ever would you think that?" he asked, perplexed.

Sarah began to feel a little self-conscious; as though she was about to admit to spying on something she shouldn't have been.

"He seemed a little angry before… when he left by himself. Upset and angry… well, at me, I suppose," she answered.

Dumbledore appeared thoughtful for a moment before he responded. "Ah… Severus _is_ upset, though not with you, but with himself. Upon hearing your sad news when he first awakened he was quite shaken and took responsibility for your tragedy onto his own shoulders. He was rather distraught."

Sarah understood immediately and felt rather bad for the dark man. "Oh… it's not his fault. It was just an accident," she assured the old wizard in front of her. "I don't blame him."

"I am pleased to hear that… I've already had a word with him," Dumbledore explained. "I hope when he is feeling stronger he may see things a little differently."

Sarah looked saddened. "I'll talk to him," she offered.

"Thank you, Ms Evans, that might help," Dumbledore replied, nodding his approval.

"Now, I do have another reason to intrude on your rest. You see, it has rather perplexed me how and why you were within the Manor grounds where you first met Severus to begin with."

Sarah, knowing what she'd be likely required to reveal, felt herself blush. "It's a bit of a long story," she began, and Dumbledore nodded his understanding, encouraging her to continue.

"Well, I went to a work function a couple of months ago, I work in publicity for a fashion house, and, I am rather embarrassed to admit, that's the night I became pregnant," Sarah admitted.

Dumbledore looked slightly puzzled.

"It was a one night stand," she clarified for him.

"Ah," he responded, sympathetically.

"It's not something I normally do. I still can't believe that I did it in the first place," she felt the need to defend herself.

The old man nodded acceptingly, mollifying and putting Sarah more at ease.

"When I found out I had conceived I wanted to tell him, but, well, I only had a few clues to go by to find him. That night I had all but given up searching when my car ran out of fuel right outside the gates of that estate. Oddly enough the gates resembled the closest to what I had been told by the baby's father about his home – I thought maybe I'd finally found the right place. Then the gates opened up and I decided to go in to ask for help with my car whether or not it was the right place or not. That's when Severus and I collided."

Dumbledore looked quite perturbed at Sarah's tale and regarded her quite piercingly with his deep blue eyes.

"Did this man provide you with his name?" he asked intently.

Sarah nodded, recognizing the sudden tension and welling with apprehension herself. "Yes… Vincent Malfoy."

Abruptly the curtains at the foot of the bed were thrown open aggressively, startling Sarah and revealing the dark man, who'd evidently been eavesdropping, standing rigid; glaring with an astonished and penetrating gaze.


	9. Chapter 9 - The Truth

_**This is unimaginably late, and for that I apologise.**_

_**Last chapter Severus overheard Sarah name the man she had come to visit; Vincent Malfoy. He's understandably furious, believing Sarah to have been deceitful in her original claims to him about why and how she was at the Malfoy estate, but there is more to her story, of course, and the revelations will have them all reeling.**_

_**Read below to discover, The Truth...**_

_**Please Review when you are finsihed.**_

_**:D**_

**Chapter 9** – _The Truth_

Severus stood rigid and glaring at the woman, tearing his eyes away from hers only long enough to share a furious glance with the Headmaster before returning his accusing glower to Sarah once again.

"Severus," the Headmaster began, "this is not anything you need involve yourself with… and you need your rest, my boy."

"Like hell it doesn't," the dark man countered with a furious hiss, his stance becoming even more furious and rigid when he recognised Dumbledore's attempt to evict and exclude him.

Dumbledore eyed him up and down. "Calm yourself… how much did you overhear?" he asked steadily.

Severus whipped his gaze back to the Headmaster. "What does it matter?" he asked bluntly. He did not wish to make that fact relevant despite only genuinely hearing the last several seconds of the woman's testimony – he clearly felt he'd heard enough anyway. He turned back to Sarah.

"Well, which is it, Vincent or Malfoy?" he then demanded of the woman who was looking rather alarmed and ready to flee from the bed before him. She appeared shocked and confused at his question, but Severus did not buy into the act.

Sarah glanced in surprise to the Headmaster, wanting to confirm what she'd just garnered from Severus' somewhat illogical question. "You know who I'm talking about… I had the right house?"

"Don't play the _fool_," Severus accused with a growl, "you know full well you had the right estate. What was your objective!?" he demanded.

"Severus! That's enough!" Dumbledore reprimanded, rising to his feet and angrily glaring at the accusatory wizard. Beside him Sarah slipped her legs from the covers to sit on the edge of the bed, perhaps too alarmed at the dark man's show of anger and therefore reluctant to remain within his easy reach. He reached out hand to Sarah, both to halt any intention to flee, and to reassure her that he would protect her if need be.

The rebuke made Severus cease his attack. As much as he'd intended to cause Sarah to feel intimidated, the Headmaster's shielding of the woman made him realise he'd probably gone too far in his show of aggression. Sarah was a Muggle, he reminded himself; she was effectively at their mercy already. Not to mention Dumbledore still commanded ultimate authority over him whether he liked to admit it or not; he really had no choice but to comply.

"It matters, Severus, because you have not heard the full details… and nor have I yet."

Severus conceded the point; he knew the Headmaster sought answers from the woman as much as he himself did, so he bit his tongue and blew a long breath through his nostrils in an attempt to control himself.

Now that Severus had appeared to calm Dumbledore addressed him again. "There is more to Sarah's story than you perhaps overheard… and it is _foolish_ in itself to assume anything of her motive unless you have heard the lot," he said pointedly, throwing some the accusatory language back into his spy's face.

Dumbledore's attempt to embarrass him worked, Severus hated being proven wrong and turned his angry glare away from his target; staring at the rumpled sheets instead. "And the story would _be_?" he asked with some impatience, obviously still not necessarily expecting a revelation.

There was silence for a couple of moments, and then Dumbledore answered curtly. "If you would care to take a seat and calmly hear it out, I believe Miss Evans will be happy to continue."

Severus' head snapped up so quickly it was amazing he hadn't jarred his neck. "Evans?" he queried, glancing back and forth between the Headmaster and Sarah.

She nodded, confirming the Headmaster's information and assertion, but it was clear she had no idea as to the shock and turmoil the disclosure of her surname had generated within him, let alone why. Dumbledore on the other hand was now gazing at him interestedly. Severus did not like it and steeled himself to avoid further scrutiny. He might enquire further of the detail later, but for now he let it go.

Albus deftly conjured him a chair, and gave him an expectant look to make use of it. Severus rolled his eyes slightly and gave in; taking the seat in the chair as directed, wrapping an arm around his bandaged middle bracingly as he lowered himself into it.

Dumbledore ushered Sarah to resume her place in the bed, but Severus was still wearing a glare as his expression, so she somewhat reluctantly lifted her legs onto the mattress but sidled over to the edge closest to the old man as he re-took his seat beside her.

For Severus' benefit the Headmaster recapped Sarah's tale so far of how she'd gone in search of a man she'd met a few months ago, who had given her a vague description of his home, and how Sarah had searched in vain until her car had coincidentally broken down in front of an estate that resembled the description the most so far. It explained how Sarah had come to be where Severus had first knocked into her, but not yet why. He was a little curious in his own right, but above all wondered what piece of the puzzle was missing that would render it all relevant to their circumstances. In particular, what connected this man to the Malfoy estate and what business Sarah may have had with him?

"I think you should describe the man you sought, Miss Evans… for, you may not yet have gathered, but he could be one of two possibilities. Only one of the names you mentioned is directly connected to that estate you entered. The other name may or may not belong to the other possibility that is an acquaintance of a member of the family of that estate," Dumbledore directed Sarah. Severus frowned, averse to giving the woman more information lest she attempt to use it to deceive them.

Sarah nodded, finally comprehending their position. "Oh…well… he was quite young… a fair bit younger than me. Maybe late teens, at most early twenties or something," she began.

Severus was instantly thrown; he'd not been expecting that. He had assumed Sarah's contact might have possibly been Lucius himself… or at least someone of similar age and status; particularly as Sarah had mentioned the Malfoy name specifically and she'd been entering Lucius' estate at the time. However, given the clues left at his disposal a bad feeling was beginning to dawn upon him about the identity of this 'man'.

"Describe his complexion, his hair, his height," Severus commanded, eager to work out the mystery. Had he missed another crucial induction into the Death Eaters? He glanced briefly at Dumbledore and the old wizard's expression suggested he was having similar thoughts.

Sarah complied. "He was a bit taller than me… his hair was blonde, I think… um…"

"What shade?" Severus prompted further with greater impatience, knowing it was impossible to mischaracterise the particular suspect's features he had in mind.

"Er… sandy… dark blonde," she supplied after thinking on the detail a little.

Severus sighed lightly and caught Dumbledore's gaze. "It's not Draco," he stated, and Albus agreed with a shake of his own head.

Sarah glanced between the two questioningly; wishing she understood their exchange.

"If we can assume that at least one of the names was genuine, and the name Malfoy was not, then perhaps Vincent… _Crabbe_?" Albus suggested, with an eyebrow raised in question at Severus.

Severus frowned back, the possibility flitting around his mind.

Albus furthered an idea already circulating his own mind. "Vincent embellished, he used the _Malfoy_ name like a status badge as a means to an end," he proposed evenly. Severus did not yet make the correlation; his mind instead trying to understand how or why Sarah could ever have even encountered the pure-blood teen, let alone any reason for Sarah to have sought him out.

"Sarah, would you be so kind as to relay the events of the evening at your work function a few months ago," Dumbledore asked, evidently formulating his theory even further with the information Seveus had yet to hear.

Severus was surprised. "Work function?" he queried, looking to the Headmaster.

Albus nodded, and turned himself to Sarah, which Severus then imitated to gain the details.

She looked uncomfortable, but nodded in agreement all the same. "He approached me… I'd never met or seen him before at any fashion event; obviously now I see that he didn't belong, he shouldn't have been there at all. Anyway, I tried to brush him off at first, not to be rude, but I had been trying all evening to catch a certain reporter for a word. _Vincent_, if that really was his name, introduced himself and was quite insistent… he turned on the charm and convinced me to have just one drink with him… I couldn't see the reporter I'd been looking for, and didn't want to be outwardly rude, and just one drink with the kid wouldn't hurt… so I humoured him, I guess. And after that I- I don't know what I was thinking, but he seemed suddenly at the time so funny and interesting, and it was like he was bragging about who he was, what he owned, and all of it mattered, except it didn't… no matter what he said…"

Sarah sighed, she was finding it difficult to explain what had gone on that night, it was such an awkward assortment of her having felt one way and recollecting giving her consent to what had happened, and yet alternately knowing what was actually said and being unable to reconcile her reactions to everything at the time. Like she wasn't herself… like it had been someone else who'd made her decisions for her (ones that she was sure she would never have ordinarily made), but they were made _inside_ her own mind. This was precisely why she'd not said anything to anyone the next day. She couldn't even make sense of what had happened herself.

She abruptly hid her face in her hands and massaged her temples with her index fingers; the whole incident was doing her head in. She couldn't explain it, couldn't justify anything.

The dark man was still not making the connection. He looked to Dumbledore with his head tilted slightly in question, seeking a greater hint.

"You told me Vincent was involved in his first meeting since his indoctrination," the old man guided softly.

Severus was immediately taken aback, however he was also instantly and incredibly convinced of the possibility. Had this been the Muggle function the Dark Lord's newest Death Eaters had raided in _celebration_? He returned his attention immediately to Sarah, her head still bent in frustrated confusion, and leaned in interestedly.

"I don't know what happened… at the time it all seemed different, but the same… oh God I can't explain it. I did everything that I wouldn't have done. It doesn't make sense," Sarah expounded.

Now that the potential for the involvement of a Wizard was more likely in Severus' mind, he was considering Sarah's tale from a different mindset and he was instantly suspicious. What Sarah was describing, her symptoms, he'd recognised as possibly _potion_ induced. The _Divinitus_ Draught could cause such sensations. It was not an illegal potion, because its flavour was easily recognisable and detectable by almost any wizard, Severus routinely discussed the brew's qualities in his 4th year Potions classes as part of the curriculum though it was never actually prepared by the students. However Muggles, on the other hand, would never know nor recognise the characteristics of this potion; therefore it was forbidden to administer it to Muggles without special permission, as it was for most potions.

"You had something to drink…what was it… what did it look like?" he asked, eager to explore his own theory now forming in his mind. Out of the corner of his eye Dumbledore appeared satisfied that Severus had caught up and had taken on the mantle.

The qualities of the _Divinitus_ Draught could not be disguised; Severus would be able to tell immediately if it had been used.

Sarah lifted her chin to look up at the man questioning her; a little surprised Severus seemed to be taking her seriously. She rather expected more fury, or perhaps even ridicule. She had no idea why he asked about the drink, but maybe it would turn out to be relevant.

"Um… it was some sort of cocktail… maybe vodka and orange juice, or a tequila sunrise or something… it was orange with red grenadine or something floating on top. I don't really know; I don't drink cocktails, or actually any alcohol at all, very often," Sarah explained.

'Grenadine? Doubtful,' Severus thought assuredly. 'No, unlikely; the floating, bright red syrup was more than likely the _Divinitus_ Draught,' he decided quite confidently. Still, one more quality would make it undeniable and Sarah's admission regarding her unfamiliarity with alcohol wouldn't matter.

"The flavour… can you remember it?" Severus pressed, with intense interest.

Sarah creased her forehead as she attempted to recall. "Um… it kinda… well, it sort of… it's kind of weird, but it tasted… _white_," she stated, shaking her head. She was quite unsure of her description, as though it was unlike anything she considered logical, but it was the only way she could describe it.

However it was the clincher for Severus; it was utterly indisputable that Sarah had ingested the _Divinitus_ Draught.

Albus's slightly disturbed expression told that he had possibly come to the same conclusion.

"_Divinitus_?" he suggested to the old man softly.

Dumbledore confirmed his same thoughts by returning a light, troubled nod.

Severus closed his eyes momentarily perturbed. Sarah did not yet understand it, but the truth was that she'd been deliberately dosed with a variety of a _Compelling_ or _Influencing_ _Potion_.

"What happened after?" he asked, slightly hesitant to discover exactly what the idiotic boy had intended for his innocent, Muggle victim. Another glance at Dumbledore and Severus knew the answer was not going to be good… the old man now looked positively irate.

Sarah's chin dropped back down a little, her expression coloured with shame and embarrassment; her own reluctance unmistakable. Her reaction furthered Severus' trepidation.

"I slept with him… I can't believe I did, but he suggested we go upstairs... and I just did," she confessed with quiet horror and confusion.

Severus could not prevent the soft, astounded gasp that exited his mouth. He was stunned and horrified himself. Sarah still did not comprehend, but this teenager, who Severus still largely identified as a child, had essentially _raped_ her with the aid of a _Compelling Potion_.

It also became clear to Severus now why the Dark Lord might have dished out punishment for the new inductees' behaviour. The celebratory raid was inappropriate on two counts. _One_, the Dark Lord was still trying to keep a low profile at this point; such a _public_ fashion event, with media involvement no less, was not the wisest choice to dally with Muggles, and _two_, sexual encounters with Muggles was considered distasteful in the least by true believers in blood purity. The new Death Eaters had foolishly jeopardised the movement's success and aims, all in their first day – the _idiots_!

In front of him Sarah dipped her head even further, evidently interpreting his sounds of astonishment as judgement.

His eyes took in her entire form, her head hanging and her shoulders drooping with humiliation, but it was when Severus' gaze swept lower over her midsection that he recalled her recent loss and he finally laid the final piece of the puzzle into place.

Vincent Crabbe had deceived, assaulted… and _impregnated_ Sarah. And, completely ignorant to the malevolence of the circumstances, Sarah had come looking for him to share news of the impending infant! And straight to the _Malfoy_ estate too; which currently was serving as the headquarters for the Wizarding world's greatest Muggle haters! Unthinkably; Crabbe had led an innocent Muggle woman straight to the devil's lair!

Utterly furious now himself, Severus pushed as swiftly as he could from his chair and glared at Dumbledore. "When are they back? What day is it?"

. .

"When's who back?" Sarah uttered, lifting her chin again, a little alarmed at Severus' sudden movement and the abrupt onset of his fury. She was, however, roundly ignored.

Dumbledore stood alongside her, seemingly to attempt to calm the irate man, who was supporting his arm around his injured middle still, by ushering him back into his seat. He didn't comply.

"Monday… it's Monday," Albus informed promptly, but left the other question unanswered.

Severus seemed to work it out for himself though. "Tonight?" he queried rather stunned at how much time must have passed since he'd been at the castle last.

Dumbledore reluctantly confirmed his question with a nod.

"Good…I'll pull the little vermin aside-" he spat, before Dumbledore cut him off, halting his tirade.

"That's enough, Severus… I'll discuss this further with you later," Dumbledore suddenly instructed firmly with a warning look. Severus frowned, not fully comprehending the caution, but he complied with the Headmaster's command.

"He's coming here?" Sarah asked with startled surprise.

Assuming Sarah meant Crabbe, Severus answered. "Yes, unfortunately," he sneered.

"Why? Why's he coming here?" Sarah wanted to know, looking to either man for the answer. The old wizard first gestured for the dark man to retake his seat, before taking his own again, and then he answered her question.

"The young man we suspect you met that night a few months ago is Vincent Crabbe. His father is an associate of the man who owns the estate you entered, Lucius Malfoy… and their sons, Draco and Vincent are friends. Vincent is also a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… _this_ school. He is currently fifteen years old and will tonight be returning for his fifth year."

At the information Sarah's jaw dropped open several millimetres. "Fifteen?" she voiced, aghast.

"And that is not the worst of it," Severus illuminated at a mutter for her.

Dumbledore creased his brow at his spy. "Gently, Severus," he advised again softly.

Now comprehending the Headmaster's desire for Severus to treat the conversation with more delicacy, Severus nodded lightly in agreement.

Why…what's so bad? I don't understand," Sarah asked, knowing they were keeping something significant from her.

"Miss Evans… Sarah," Dumbledore began softly. "We suspect Vincent has slipped you a potion. It is against our laws to administer this particular potion to Muggles at all, but certainly it is even more nefarious without your consent."

Sarah seemed to become even more aghast.

"What… well, what did he give me? He put it in the drink, didn't he?"

Severus nodded at the probability, "Yes… I believe it was a Compelling Potion of sorts, called the _Divinitus Draught_."

"Compelling… what…?" she started, thinking hard, recalling the details of that night and slipping each one in with what she had just been told. "Oh, my God… you mean…"

"He has effectually raped you, yes" Severus announced; not quite as delicately as Albus would have liked.

They could both see her thinking over the consequences of what she had learned, and it was clear to see her shock and dismay build stronger by the second until she came to the ultimate understanding.

. .

Sarah covered her face with her hands, strange emotions coming upon her all of a sudden; _vulnerability_, _shame_, a sense of having been _used_… _sullied_; and she instantly felt sick.

Her two concerned companions were eyeing her closely, but she couldn't take the scrutiny.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she announced, dropping her hands and pushing herself from the bed quickly.

"Sarah… I am so sorry," the older man offered gently, the care and concern in his tone strong.

"Please," she replied on her way past him, "I just need to go… I'm can't..."

Snape leapt from his seat and was standing next to the opening in the curtain by the time she got there.

"Sarah… it's alright" he whispered softly… more concern in his tone than she thought him capable of since meeting him and noting his ordinarily brusque manner. His hand came forward slightly to halt her departure.

Sarah paused next to him briefly, but her distress was building to crisis point. She needed to be alone.

"Let me go… _please_," she practically begged, and Severus retracted his hand immediately.

Once out of the curtained cubicle Sarah made a decision to retreat out into the hall through the double doors, and made her way swiftly to the loos Arthur had shown her on her arrival into the castle.

There, as she opened the door, painful memories of her recent miscarriage bombarded her, adding monstrously to her distress, and suddenly bile rose from her stomach. She only just made it to the basin before she lost the contents of her stomach into the shallow bowl.

The water flushed the mess down the plug hole, but Sarah was coming to another vile conclusion and she groaned in anguish. Her baby… the innocent creature that had briefly taken up all her careful consideration and joyful deliberation in her life before she lost it… had been the nefariously conceived _rape child_ fathered by a fifteen year old boy!

She felt such a fool!

Misery, degradation and grief pushed through, broke her restraints and flowed powerfully from her, and echoed resoundingly around the room in despairing cries and sobs.


End file.
